


Distance

by dentigerous, wraithnoir



Series: The Corruption of Ben Solo [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bloodline Compliant, Character Death, Corruptor Hux, Dark Side Force Use, Distance Force shit, F/M, Force boners, Hux Backstory, It gets a little rough with that Dark Side Shit, M/M, Mind Games, Past Child Abuse, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 12:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 31,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7844101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dentigerous/pseuds/dentigerous, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraithnoir/pseuds/wraithnoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After nearly four months together, General Hux has made good on his promise to Ben Solo, and handed him over to the Knights of Ren. The smuggler has lived so long in other's shadows, he's determined to find a place where he is unparalleled, important, and more than that, where he is necessary. </p><p>Six months. Ben Solo promised the Supreme Leader six months. To train, to fight, to learn the true power of the Dark Side. To learn his true power. </p><p>Both Arrik and Ben find themselves fixating on the other. The obsession deepens, and they struggle to communicate across the systems and planets that separate them. Hux continues to travel to the weapon, Ben Solo becomes Kylo Ren. What will they be like when they finally meet again? (Especially after that kiss, which was not enough and just enough to obsess over.)</p><p>(Or the AU where Ben doesn't go dark side as a teenager, becomes a smuggler, and Hux corrupts him instead. Part 4, a short intermission.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! another installment in the ongoing Corruption arc. For all you newbies, [HERE](http://archiveofourown.org/series/461893) is the series page, [HERE](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6804667/chapters/15539137) is the first installment and....[HERE](http://tigernoir.tumblr.com/) is our kylux tumblr! Come say hi, plz. 
> 
> Thanks everyone, and much love. -tiger&wraith

Ben dropped his sparring stick next to the pallet he slept on, catching his breath as he walked over to his bag against the opposite wall. The room was small, and he cursed the low ceiling every time he walked in. After a month, he likely should have been used to it, but after he spent all day outside training with the Knights, it was hard to be alone in such a cramped place. He crouched down by his satchel and pulled out the journal he’d taken from Hux’s mansion on Arkanis. The spine was worn and more cracked than it had been, and there were more papers in between the pages covered in notes Ben had made as he read and re-read the entries.

The supply shuttle was arriving today, and he’d been instructed in a message last week to be there for the shipment before heading to the room they used for holocalls with the Supreme Leader. He’d been told to bring the box marked with his name directly to the call. If the box held when he believed it did, he’d need the journal as well. He tucked the worn book into his wide belt, then grabbed a loose shirt to pull over his head as he walked back out into the outdoors of the planet with no name. Ben still wasn’t sure exactly where they were; he hadn’t seen any native sentients on the planet the entire time he’d been there. He passed one of the other Knights as he walked, tying his hair back from his face. It had gotten shaggy and too long; he’d have to cut it when he had time.

“Marden Ren,” he said. He didn’t smile; there were still strange politics in place among the Knights, and Ben was still establishing his place. Takhar Ren had not forgiven the slight on Arkanis, though he refused to fight Ben one-on-one, choosing to oversee and let the other Knights spar with him. Ben relished the challenge fighting them afforded him. He felt his own strength increasing as he pushed himself as he hadn’t in a long time, learning the unique aspects of each Knight’s weapon. He himself used the training camp’s supply of weapons, which were a mix of First Order modern weaponry and older pieces from many systems, swords and staves and maces. Marden Ren had his heavy club-like weapon strapped along his back, his distinctive helmet laid on top of a wrapping of spikes and blades. “Has the shuttle arrived?”

“Just came down,” Marden muttered, rolling his shoulders, his usual pauldron in his own room. He carried various pieces of weaponry under his other arm as he walked down the hall of the training complex.

Ben nodded to him, pausing a moment. “Are you training alone this evening?”

Marden shrugged, shifting from foot to foot. He was uneasy and uncomfortable around the new recruit, not understanding quite what Ben’s place was, how he fit in.

“Meditating.”

Ben frowned slightly, gesturing to the weapons the Knight was carrying with him.

“Meditating with all of those?” he asked archly. He guessed Marden was training with Takhar.

Marden stared at Ben for a few seconds, face impassive. He shrugged. “I didn’t say I was getting to this today. It just came.” He was almost daring Ben to say something else, step out of line.

Ben felt the challenge and, as happened so often lately, a spike of anger inspired his reaction, and he let it, just as Snoke had been encouraging him. He reached forward and pulled one of the heavy striking daggers out of Marden’s hold, looking it over carefully.

“This isn’t your usual choice.” He looked up to meet his eyes. “I look forward to seeing you try them out tomorrow morning.” He made a noise. “I can think of three ways to take you down while using them.”

“You can think all you want. I know twenty ways,” Marden said, frowning as he grew even more defensive. He raised his own hand, pulling the dagger back into his palm with the Force. He didn’t respond further, turning away and walking down the hallway with his knuckles white around the dagger’s hilt.

It wasn’t a unique encounter for Ben. Marden was squarely in Takhar’s camp, loyal and stoic to a fault. He made a noise to himself then headed to the landing pad. The stormtroopers had already unloaded most of the crates of supplies, carrying them to the small outbuilding they used to store things that were brought in. He nodded to the troopers, then walked over to look over the crates. He picked up the small box marked ‘Solo’ and licked his lips. He felt the power emanating from the box and held it more tightly as he walked back to the main building. It was a relief not to meet any more of the Knights on his trip to the hall. He looked at the panel on the wall, then tapped in his code to alert the other end he was ready for the call. He walked back to stand in front of the holo pad and set the box down on the floor, then touched the journal tucked into his belt.

He’d told the Supreme Leader that he needed to make his own weapon. All he required were the pieces. The box called him to open it, but he stood with stillness, if not patience.

When the holo flickered to life, Ben took a deep breath as he watched the first few seconds of vague bluish static. Wherever they were, or wherever Snoke was, something interfered with comm channels. He guessed it was radiation from a nearby belt or system, but as he hadn’t been able to confirm what planet he was actually on, he could only guess. He straightened his shoulders, standing with his feet set apart. It was a far cry from the way he’d first met the Supreme Leader, cracking jokes at Hux with his back turned on the call. There was only respect for the sentient now. Every promise Snoke had made, he’d kept. As he trained using the dark side of the Force, he grew stronger, and bit by bit he was releasing all the anger he’d kept for years. It was a never ending supply though; it was a release, but it was not a cleansing.

The holo flickered into existence in the dark hall, spreading low blue light into the corners of the room. Snoke was no less imposing in this room, and his image rose to the ceiling. The sentient was massive, and in the chamber it was easier to see that he was projecting himself at actual size, that the pores in his skin were mottled, the scars small and intricate, the stitches of his clothing almost as tiny as the seams on Ben’s hems.

Snoke shifted forwards, leaning down to meet Ben’s gaze.

“Open it.”

Ben nodded without saying anything, releasing the lock on the box’s lid. He dropped the top to the floor, then reached into the box to sort through the pieces inside. Old hilt casings, parts to create the energy gate, wiring wrapped around a power cell. They were all parts that looked as though they’d been taken from other lightsabers, and Ben had a selection to choose from as he built his own. But it was all nothing without the actual plasma blade. He took a deep breath as his hand was drawn to a smaller box tucked against the corner, insulated against the rest. His uncle had talked about the journey of the Jedi padawans throughout history to find the kyber crystal best suited to each of them. He thought, for a moment, of the lightsaber in the box under his uncle’s bed. He’d never built his own before. As a Padawan, he’d used his uncle’s, his grandfather’s. He swallowed and looked up at Snoke’s face.

“What crystal is this? Where’d you find it?” he asked.

Snoke made a noise in the back of his throat, guttural and low. “These are relics. From old collections.” He waved his spindly hand, shifting backwards again. “Some of the materials have been made scarce.”

Ben pressed his mouth, leaning down to set the box of parts down but keeping the smaller box with him. “Whose was it?” he asked as he opened the tin, keeping his eyes down to see the crystal the moment it was revealed. He looked up quickly. “Whose was it?” he repeated.

“I haven’t been able to see that.”

Ben held his hand over the box, drawing the crystal out of its bedding and suspending it in the air. It spun slowly, and he could feel all the planes and edges of it. He closed his fingers around it and took a deep breath, looking up to Snoke again.

“I’ll need some time. I’ve read a lot about it, and remember my instruction from before, but I’ve actually never done this.” He pressed his fist to the journal in his belt. “I have ideas though. I’m ready.”

Snoke nodded once, and he lifted his hand. The pieces in the chest rose up, all of them spinning around slowly, rotating and attaching to each other, then reattaching and breaking apart. It was a delicate display, and took no effort from the giant sentient who flickered in the holo stream.

“I have never found a need for this sort of weapon,” Snoke said, and the pieces descended back into the open box. “But there should be more than enough pieces here to form a whole.”

“It’s not just pieces,” Ben said thoughtfully, bending down to drop the crystal back into its tin before closing the box. “It’s the right pieces.” He shrugged then looked up again, still crouched. “How will I train? None of the rest of team better-than-Ben have weapons that will stand up to a plasma blade. Maybe Sa’marha, with that electrostaff. Maybe. If Sa’marha could keep up.”

“Zayrâl’s blade is made of songsteel,” Snoke said dismissively. “He has trained with master swordsmen for many years.”

“Yeah, and if he didn’t think he’d get in trouble, he’d hack my head off when I kneel down to wash my hair,” Ben said, rolling his eyes and standing again with the box in his arms.

“I do not want to hear of your petty squabbles,” Snoke said,his tone firm. “You have your directives, and they have theirs. Inaction breeds resentment.”

Ben felt the scolding like quiet fire in his belly. He straightened his back as he looked up.

“If I really took my place, there could be serious injuries. They’re your elite. I can inflict a lot of damage.” He imagined it the way he saw it in his dreams. Standing with his hands outstretched, forcing the six black helmeted heads to bow.

“You are but a transient,” Snoke said. It was a challenge and a fact, a sharp sting that reminded Ben of his place and encouraged him to rise above it. Ben pressed his mouth before answering.

“Then why train here with them at all?” he responded with a little bit of heat. “Their Force use is weak, even though, yeah, sure, they’re the best fighters I’ve ever seen. You send them on missions all the time. I came here to grow stronger. I need your help for that. Your guidance. You’re the only one who shows me how to embrace what I am.” Snoke was the one who encouraged him not to pull his punches, not to make friends, to look to a future in which he tipped the balance in himself.

Snoke’s displeasure filled the room, a soft warning, the Force rising with his ire.

“You ask much for a man who has done little,” Snoke’s voice was cold, and the temperature dropped in the room as well. “Find a way to work with the Knights instead of against them and see your desires met.”

Ben nodded, grip tight on the edges of the box he was holding to his chest. He could feel them bite into his palms. The chill in the room was unpleasant on his sweaty skin; rather than cooling him down after his afternoon training, it made the hair on his arms stand up and sent a shiver riding up his back. He had learned not to argue as much; he pushed back, but not as hard as he had before. There was no reason; Snoke was the key to everything he wanted to accomplish, the reality to all the research. This was the place he’d seen in the back of his head the night he’d heard the mechanical voice of his grandfather, even before this sentient’s whispers had begun. His strength would grow as he learned to use the dark side. While they weren’t as strong as he was in the Force, the Knights were all dark side users, and the way they used their powers surprised him sometimes. He needed to learn those skills and abolish his surprise.

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” he said finally.

Snoke regarded Ben for a few more seconds. The room stayed cold, but the power drawing Ben’s strength faded.

“There is much here for you to learn,” he said, shifting slightly, almost as if he were relaxing.

“I hear that a lot,” Ben said, but there was no bite to his words now. He watched the huge sentient, wondering if he’d be dismissed now or if his obedience would be tested further. He thought of Hux suddenly, the way he turned his head to the side when he fought to keep his mental walls intact.

“You should focus outward, young one. Step away from your self reflection, it is clouding your focus. If you wish for the Knights of Ren to respect you, you must know them, in ways that they might not know themselves.”

Ben didn’t say anything this time. He inclined his head to the Supreme Leader, his acquiescence. It was nearly a bow.

“If you must force their hands, so be it.” This time it was a dismissal. “They will learn, in time.”

Snoke gestured again, and his image flickered, leaving the room empty except for Ben. Ben stood there for another minute, feeling the temperature rising as the natural order of the planet righted itself in the room. He contemplated trying to contact Hux, but it was always a difficult connection. He’d managed to send a message once, and he didn’t know if the general had even received it. Turning, he walked out of the hall and back outside. He could smell food cooking; even the stoic Knights liked to enjoy the bounty of the night supplies were dropped off.

He left the box to his room, draping his blanket over it. He assumed the other Knights came into his room while he wasn’t there. He carried no illusions of privacy in the training camp. He washed his face before heading to the room that doubled as a kitchen and a dining room for them, with a low fireplace in one corner and cushions for sitting. Tomorrow night would be his turn to cook again. They didn’t seem to mind adding him to the rotation; chores were never something that anyone kept to themselves.

Grabbing a bowl, he filled it with the sticky sort of stew then grabbed a hunk of dense bread from a board on the table beside the fireplace. He sat down next to the only female Knight, a Zabrak, and nodded to her. The only times the Knights were generally without their helmets for longer than a few minutes where when they all sat together to plan during the morning and evening meals.

“Sa’marha.”

She turned slightly to look at Ben, her bright amber-yellow eyes catching his gaze. The Knight’s light grey hair was braided and twined around her horns, which formed a half crown around her head, making the spikes seem more delicate than they were. She nodded once, something like acceptance, and shifted over to give him some more room. It was one of the nicer gestures the near-human had exhibited. Her alliance to Takhar was borne out of a grudging respect for his power, not out of any long standing loyalty. Ben shifted to sit cross-legged on the cushion, setting the bowl down on the floor in front of him so he could tear a piece of bread free to dip into the stew.

“You had a meeting with Snoke.” the woman said, her voice soft and gravelly. “He pays you quite a lot of attention.”

Ben didn’t look up from his food as he let the gravy soak into the heavy bread. He knew they were all curious about him; Snoke hadn’t shared much, telling him that it was his place to share if and when he wanted to.

“I’m honored that the Supreme Leader meets with me and trains me so often.” He ate the bread and took a small sip of the lukewarm water in his cup. “He’s interested in my new weapon.” He knew that would catch her interest.

Although her expression didn’t change much, her eyes widened slightly.

“What kind of weapon?”

Zabrak, in Ben’s experience, had a love and a weakness for unique weapons.

“Well, I’m a little tired of just using the training stuff for every single match. You all have your special weapons, decided I should fancy up myself.” As he spoke, he suddenly couldn’t wait to work on it, to flip the switch and hear that hum again. To feel its power and counterbalance when the blade came alive.

“Get to it,” Sa’marha muttered, taking large bites of the stew. “What weapon?”

“Something it’ll take Takhar the rest of his life trying to learn to beat.” Ben looked over at her and smiled then, but it wasn’t his smuggler’s smile. It was smaller and tighter. Let her take that back to the other Knight. He knew it would turn in Takhar’s stomach for days.

Sa’marha shook her head, dunking her bread in the bowl. “Men,” she grumbled, sopping up the rest of her meal.

Ben ate his food quickly, then cleaned his dishes and left them to dry on the table. He didn’t speak to anyone else before making his way to the path by the training camp that led to an old tumble of stones. He settled down to meditate, kneeling with his hands on his thighs. It was a dark place, the currents of the Force deep and insistent when they grabbed onto him. He pulled up the image of the pieces in the box, visualizing the way Snoke had manipulated them even from that distance. None of the combinations had been right, but he let his mind cycle through them and bring other pieces in as he knelt there. He lost track of the time, but when he opened his eyes again, the dusk had turned to night and he was tired as he brought the Force fire up in his open palm to light his way back to his room.

As he approached the end of the hall, he paused. His jaw was set as he walked into his room, which was made infinitely smaller by the number of people in it.

Inside Ben’s room, Takhar had opened up the small trunk, holding a few pieces of an unknown Jedi’s lightsaber in his hand. Beside him stood Marden and Betuo, the latter with his hands on his hips, grinning down at what Takhar had found.

“What’s this,” Takhar asked, sneering as he stood up. “You’ve been given a package full of trash.”

Ben took a slow deep breath, only a few steps into the room.

“Going through my things, Takhar?” He gestured slightly, then put his hands down by his sides again. “Beat it. You’re just showing your ignorance.”

Marden reached down, taking out the small box that housed the kyber crystal. He lifted his hand slightly and the box split apart, the crystal rotating close to his hand, shaking slightly.

“What trick is this?” He spoke quietly, obviously confused about the nature of the crystal.

Ben’s shoulders tightened, straightening his back when his muscles pulled his shoulder blades together. How dare Marden Ren touch what was his? Something so precious and rare and necessary.

“No trick,” he said just as quietly. “Put it back.”

Takhar leaned over, taking the crystal out of the air, pulling it away from Marden’s Force.

“What is it?”

“I heard it,” Marden said, turning his head to look back to Ben. “Why were you given this gift?”

“Because the Supreme Leader knows that I’ll make the best use of it. Put it back.” None of them had his background, he knew. None of them had the power or skills to make use of the crystal. He kept his eyes on Takhar’s hand. He heard the crystal now, humming, felt it pulling him closer.

Takhar frowned, watching Ben’s face carefully. “Use of it? This trinket? What use is there to make of it?”

“If you don’t know, you won’t understand.” Ben held his hand out, giving Takhar a chance. “Don’t you feel it?” The crystal had a quiet tone to it that he could hear constantly while it was out like this.

Marden made a noise, and Betuo glanced at Takhar. The ringleader closed his hand over the crystal, tucking it into his pocket.

“I’ll keep it.”

Ben ground his teeth before replying.

“It means nothing to you, Takhar.” He glanced over at the upset crate, some of the pieces scattered over his narrow bed.

“But it’s quite a lot to you, isn’t it?” Takhar walked around the crate, brushing by Ben as he left the alcove.

“Yes.” Ben pulled it all up, the image of the lightsaber he would build, the anger that had been festering over Takhar’s continued disrespect even after they’d left Arkanis, his frustration at the waiting, all the waiting he was still enduring. “It is.”

He turned and put his hand up, with all that anger behind it. Rather than just stopping Takhar Ren as he had the last time they clashed, he used the Force to drag the Knight back into the room.

“So give it back.” He felt the Knight fighting against his power and he brutally pushed Takhar’s attempts down, slowly forcing the other man onto his knees in front of him. Betuo stepped back and Marden made a noise, putting a hand out, protecting himself. Ben sneered slightly, making a lazy gesture with his other hand and throwing the rest of them back into the stone walls, leaving just himself and Takhar in the center of the room. “Nothing to say, Takhar Ren?”

On the ground, Takhar fought to stand, throwing his own power behind the attempt. Ben made a short gesture, palm down, and increased the pressure on the Knight.

“That crystal is mine. This room is mine. What do you have to say, Takhar Ren?” His voice rose, anger making the clay crack around his feet. He concentrated his power on the Knight’s helmet, on his skull.

Takhar growled and through the vocoder it sounded feral. He continued to fight against Ben’s power, despite the fact that Ben commanded far more strength than he did. He didn’t move, but his shoulders were obviously shaking under his large black cloak.

Ben turned his wrist and forced Takhar’s chin up. All he could feel were the slights, the hand around his crystal that didn’t deserve to touch it. All of them, holding themselves superior to him even though he had the greater strength. The anger burned through his veins.

“I will fight with you. I will train with you. But I will have respect from you or I’ll crush your throat and hoist your body up for target practice.” It was an unceasing flow of anger; this was his rage unchecked for the first time, with the darkness guiding him. “It’s your choice.”

Marden stepped away from the wall, his hands up, while Betuo was still pinned to the stucco, unable to move. Takhar made another noise, chin up, shoulders trembling.

“Say something!” Ben roared, his voice echoing even in the small room. “Make your choice.”

“Take the crystal,” Takhar said tightly, forcing the words out. “Let me up.”

Ben held his hand out and the crystal passed from the Knight’s hand to his, then he closed his fingers around it. He slowly released the pressure in the room, crystal held tightly enough to gouge into his palm.

Betuo let out a noise as he finally stepped forward. Marden was glaring at Ben through his helmet and Takhar stood shakily.

“Watch yourself,” Takhar muttered, brushing by Ben once again as he left the room. Betuo followed quickly but Marden hesitated before leaving, back stiff. Ben watched them, anger not spent yet.

Alone in his room, he opened his hand and looked down at the crystal. He exhaled slowly, relieved that it was intact. Walking back to the crate, he knelt down by his bed and started pulling all the old pieces out of the box and setting them down on the blanket. He pulled the journal out of his belt and laid it open, spreading out the sketches he’d made.

He avoided the Knights for two days, meditating and working. He wasn’t going to even look at them until he was ready to face them as the equal he demanded to be treated as. He wasn’t a Knight, no, but day by day it was feeling more like something he should qualify the statement with ‘not yet.’

On the third day he meditated early, ate breakfast alone, then walked to the practice field they used for morning work. His shoulders felt loose, but his steps felt tight as he stepped into the clearing. Even this early, the air was hot and sticky around his face and in his lungs when he took a breath. The rest of his life was light years away. There was still a piece for the _Millennium Falcon_ in his bag, but he felt the ship drifting further and further away. What was the thrill of a well-swindled client or a chase through dingy streets being shot at or the living engines roaring when he took off compared to this? As Snoke had told him, those things were all the hint of his potential. This was the power of his Jedi training with the danger of the smuggling life. As he watched the blank expressions on the black helmets waiting for him, he knew that maybe there was a little bit of Senate politics in the mix too.

“Morning, lady and gents,” he said conversationally. The finished lightsaber hung off his belt; the weight of it was more comforting than any blaster ever was. His thumb ran along the curved rim at the bottom of the hilt.

Sa’marha’s eyes flicked to his belt and then up to his face, her helmet by her side. She had been concentrating but at the intrusion she broke out of her trance and slowly settled onto the rough woven mat she had laid out. Takhar made a noise and Marden shifted uncomfortably.

“That’s what you’ve been working on?” Takhar asked, sitting up straight.

Ben walked over closer to Sa’marha; he was fascinated by the way levitated a few feet off the ground while she was meditating. He’d tried it alone in his room a few times, but hadn’t had any success. He nodded to Takhar and smiled, a thin smile that wasn’t as friendly as his voice.

“Yeah, hope you lot didn’t miss me too much. I figured I should really just give myself the time to do it right.” Honestly, he hoped he’d done it right. The basics of construction had seemed very clear, but when the pieces were spinning and fitting themselves together in front of him, between his open hands as he let the Force guide them into place, he’d felt that he was missing something key. “You all ready to start the day?”

Many of the knights were stretching, some were taking care of their weapons. Zayrâl was sharpening one of his blades and he shifted a little more, looking over at Ben, noting the hilt.

Sa’marha glanced over at Takhar, who had stood up.

“Did you really make yourself a lightsaber?”

“I did,” Ben said, keeping his eyes on the other man as he walked over. “I’m looking forward to firing it up. I don’t know why you’re all acting like this is weird. Marden’s weapon looks like he’s about to paddle upstream.”

“He brought it,” Takhar said, looking back at Marden, who kept his head down, even helmeted. “How do you expect to train with us now?”

Zayrâl spoke without looking up, “My sword can match it.”

Ben looked over at him and nodded, then looked down beside him at to the Zabrak Knight.

“Sa’marha’s staff can as well. Any of you could use an electrostaff to train with me.” He raised his eyebrows. “I mean, unless this is too much for any of you guys…?” He unclipped it and turned to step away from the group. “And Takhar, I’m telling you. I made it. It knows me. The crystal and I, we know each other now.” He winked at the tall man, feeling his anger even though he couldn’t see his expression.

Takhar’s shoulders were tense, but he gestured to the large training area. The structure where they were living was built into the planet, hewn from the rock, and parts of it opened up onto the landscape. The area where the knights were sitting was tamped down dirt, small patches of grass barely alive around the raw edges. Outside of the training ground the forest grew, and the wind brought the tangy smells of the loam and underbrush close. Ben nodded to him and walked over to the training area; he was used to the lay of the training camp, but it still felt like training in someone else’s facility.

There were a thousand tiny bugs around at this time of the morning before the native birds swooped down for their own breakfasts before the first sun hit its zenith. Ben wrinkled his nose and blew a little swarm out of his face as he stepped into his place in the ring, rolling his shoulders as he always did before a fight. His thumb brushed the switch as he slid his right foot back, both hands holding the lightsaber hilt low.

Sa’marha stood up slowly with a slight frown on her face. Her helmet remained by her mat, and she held her staff tightly in her hand. Marden shifted on his feet, uneasy with Ben’s ease with the Force, his sheer power. Even Zayrâl stopped whetting his blade to watch. Ben had the entire company fixated. Ben looked at Takhar’s mask and imagined it cracked, imagined it shattered to reveal his face, stunned, eyes wide as they looked at him with fear.

“Are you ready, Takhar Ren? Did you have a good breakfast?” he asked lightly, turning his heel out to settle his stance. He pulled it up again, all that anger and resentment, that these people who should have seen him as someone to make them stronger treated him as an outsider and someone weaker than them.

Takhar lifted his chin, gesturing again.

“Let’s see it, then.”

Ben didn’t know if he’d ever get over that moment, when the plasma blade emerged and the whole weapon went from being a handful of metal to a long streak of energy with its own power and balance. For a second, the blade was a bright blue, but he blinked and it was red, deep crimson. The edges were more jagged than he’d remembered from the one he used at the Temple, but he had none to compare it to now, and no one to really guide him. He’d built it based on his research and what he remembered of his uncle’s, when Luke had taken it apart to repair it or perform maintenance. All he cared now was that it hummed in his hand, the blade broad and long and the bright color of burning fire.

Sa’marha muttered a curse under her breath, and Marden took a step back. Ben raised his eyes almost demurely as he brought his right hand with the lightsaber up next to his chin, left hand open and out as he turned his body slightly. His form was no longer perfect, but he’d been training with the practice swords the entire time he’d been there in anticipation of this moment.

Takhar made a noise, frowning deeply. He was furious with Ben, seeing his weapon materialize out of nothing. He was seething, his hands clenched by his sides. His opponent could feel it, the swell of anger, and he reveled in it for a moment. Anger, confusion, jealousy. He’d warned Takhar to get ready; if he wasn’t by now, that was no fault of Ben’s.

The unmasked man swept into his first movement, keeping close to the forms he’d learned as a child and continued to practice. He was still learning the way this blade felt, how much he had to adjust for its own momentum.

Along the building edge of the training ground most of the knights stood still, watching Ben move. Sa’marha shifted, holding her staff carefully. They were all waiting for Ben, not even daring to move as he performed his exercises. This was what he’d wanted to feel in that cold gymnasium on Arkanis. His arms and shoulders responded to the resistance the lightsaber gave as he went through each form, the short jabs and low sweeps, anticipating imaginary opponents with sabers of their own, with blasters, with a myriad other weapons. He let them watch, expecting no one to step in and challenge him. They were watching, learning, analyzing, trying to find weaknesses.

His expression was surprisingly calm when he turned off the blade and looked around.

Sa’marha’s face hadn’t changed, but Takhar Ren growled beside her. There were other Knights still inside the complex, but the sentients standing outside were all still, watching Ben.

Takhar made a noise, stepping forward. “So you got yourself a weapon,” he said lowly, controlling his voice. “Don’t think because you’ve caught Snoke’s eye you’re something worth paying attention to.”

Ben’s grip tightened on the hilt of his lightsaber, but he looked away as though the other man was boring him and he was looking for better quarry.

“Really? You don’t think I’m worth paying attention to?” He thought of a ruined garden, an old man near tears against a wall, the flare of a cigarette against his arm that he hadn’t really felt. Looking back to the Knight, he stared at him through the front of his mask as though he could make sure to meet his eyes. “Do you want me to put you on your knees again, Takhar Ren, or do you just want to fight me?”

Takhar shrugged, but before he could respond Sa’marha pushed her electrostaff against his shoulder. Her yellow eyes stared at his mask, her chin up to keep her gaze with the taller man.

“Go on.” It wasn’t a statement but a challenge; the decision had been made for him and Takhar couldn’t refuse this when he was being undermined by a newcomer.

Takhar took the staff and stepped forward, lighting it. Sa’marha retreated to lean against the hewn wall of the arena, and Marden and Zayrâl left open the training grounds, giving Ben and the Knight plenty of space. Takhar’s chin tilted upwards.

“Fight me then.”

Ben’s smile broadened as he found his stance more easily this time. Going through the moves was one thing. Actually fighting was something else. As his uncle had told him, never bring up your lightsaber against anyone you’re not ready to kill.

“Finally,” he murmured as the bright blade flashed to life again. There was no reason to wait or waste time sniping at one another with words. It felt so good to attack, to feel his blade crack against the electrostaff and meet real resistance. He spun away from Takhar’s advance, putting the other man off balance and kicking him back. It felt like years since he’d fought like this. It had been years. The training he’d done in the camp had prepared him; he felt stronger, surer. The anger he’d built up and the ways Snoke had taught him to use it came out in every blow; the dark side was stronger, it made him stronger, it let him beat back every attack Takhar tried. He felt his own weaknesses, the areas he’d need to correct. This was the Knights’ first time seeing a lightsaber, much less facing one. They’d learn, they’d adapt. And so would he. He avoided a long blow from the staff, swinging his lightsaber back and raising his free hand to throw Takhar to the other side of the training area. He paced a few steps as he waited for the other man to regain his feet.

“You’re not done already, are you, Takhar Ren?” he called across the clearing.

Takhar growled again, and he crouched low, almost on the edges of the training area, his back to the undergrowth of the wild planet around them. He was tensing up, and his clothing seemed to ripple with power as he jumped, shooting upwards ten feet in the air to land on a branch in the treetops.

“If you’re so eager, come get me!”

For a second, Ben entertained the idea of just pulling him down, of using the Force to just drag him back down to the ground and seeing him down below him again. But he had too much energy to end a fight that quickly; he wanted to beat Takhar on whatever battlefield the Knight chose. It would taste that much better. In the back of his head, he remembered Rey laughing when she was little and just starting her training, when they’d played hide-and-seek around the Temple grounds, when she’d use the Force to splash him with water and he’d blow cottonwood fluff to get stuck in her hair. He shook his head. This was not that training. Laughter wouldn’t lead to the strength without limits he craved, and Jedi waiting patiently wouldn’t put the galaxy back in order.

He sprang up to balance in a tree above him, the branch creaking under his feet. He slashed with the lightsaber and the leaves in front of him fell away as he started forward. He let the Force guide him as he approached Takhar, not even looking down to see where his feet would land as he ran through the branches.

Takhar was using most of his command of the Force now. He wasn’t nearly as strong as Ben, but he had practiced in the treetops before, and this kind of power was more natural for him. He matched Ben, blocking his saber before darting to another tree, jumping from the branch to place his feet against the trunk, propelling himself towards Ben with the staff out. Ben switched to a two handed grip to knock the blow aside, jumping to a steadier branch before the other man landed. He swayed for a moment before solidifying his stance, leaning and letting the lightsaber help him find a better balance. He struck a few branches out of his way before attacking again, meeting Takhar when the man turned back. His own blows were strong, brutal, breaking; they lacked the smoothness of his uncle’s style, but what he lacked he made up for with the Force.

Takhar was unrelenting. Even if he knew he was outmatched, at least he would be beaten away form the eyes of his Knights. But Ben was determined to make this final. They weren’t Takhar Ren’s Knights anymore. He drove the other man back, getting closer to actually striking him each time. His wide swings destroyed the trees around them, leaves immediately burned and severed branches raining down onto the training area. He swung the blade back for his defending blocks, or instinctively used the Force to protect himself.

The helmeted Knight drew him deeper into the woods, playing to his knowledge of the area, leading Ben to a dead tree that caught on fire under the other man’s lightsaber. Ben swore under his breath when the tree nearly erupted in flames and several branches collapsed under his weight. He jumped at the last second from the branch he’d managed to stand on for a second before he felt it too giving way, driving himself at Takhar and pushing him back toward the training ring with a flurry of blows.

Takhar let his memory guide him, but it was difficult to control his jumps as he parried Ben’s attacks. Suddenly, the Knight missed a branch and had to twist, pulling himself with the Force until his feet landed on a nearby treetrunk, giving him enough leverage to jump off again and land in the training area. His shoulders were heaving, and the man was obviously breathing hard through his helmet.

Ben continued to push him back, feeling the point at which the Knight’s power had reached its limit. He moved as though fresh to the fight; he was a warrior fueled by fury and adrenaline and it was so easy to focus it all on the man who continued to give way before him. Takhar still met each blow, but Ben was able to swing faster, harder, to recover quicker. He spun to build momentum into his attack, feeling the weakness in Takhar’s grip when he met it with the electrostaff. The Knight was forced to his knees, unable to keep his feet under the blow. With a short gesture, Ben flung the weapon out of the man’s hands. It landed with a dull sound on the dirt, out of reach. He growled as he stalked toward him again, lazily turning his wrist to feel the sweep of the lightsaber by his side.

«Are you paying attention yet?» he murmured into the other man’s head, tearing through the weak defenses he found there.

Takhar Ren struggled to stand with a fist clenched on his knee, shoulders jerking as he tried to shift his weight forwards. He yelled out, a scream made more guttural and terrifying through the vocoder. Every part of him was consumed by rage, and the ground cracked slightly underneath him, but he could not move under Ben’s watch.

Even now, he wouldn’t admit it. Even after everything he’d seen Ben do, felt him do, he wouldn’t admit it, that Ben was stronger, that Ben was more than he was, that he deserved respect for the things he could do. That he wasn’t just someone’s pet project. The rage swelled up into Ben’s throat and threatened to choke him.

He stepped forward as he swung the lightsaber up, bracing his back foot for the down sweep. He imagined it again, the destroyed helmet, Takhar Ren’s frozen, horrified expression.

Ben brought the saber down toward the black helmet. As the Knight’s body fell forward onto the ground, the weapon backfired with a sharp noise. Ben gripped the hilt tighter even though he felt the noise screaming through his head, scraping like something sharp against his nerves. His hand was burned but he didn’t feel the pain yet; he couldn’t move past the echo of the scream in his head as his arm dropped down by his side before he pulled it up to his chest.

He held out his other hand and pulled the fallen electrostaff into it, then turned to walk to the edge of the ring. He held the staff out to Sa’marha.

“Your weapon, Sa’marha Ren.”

Sa’marha accepted the staff, not looking away from Ben, ignoring the crumpled body of Takhar on the training grounds. The human’s blood was staining the tamped dirt, but none of the Knights made a move towards the man’s body. The Zabrak nodded once, her eyes flicking over Ben’s face and then down to the hand he held against his chest.

“You need a new name, Solo.”

Ben was still breathing hard; the air was hot and still, though the morning bugs had gone. In place of their buzz, he still heard that tinny echo from his lightsaber. Something was wrong with it. He’d have to take it apart again and see what it was. But that was for after this moment.

“I hope to be worthy of whatever the Supreme Leader chooses for me,” he said quietly.

Sa’marha didn’t respond, watching Ben carefully, trying to read him. Ben met her eyes in silence for a moment. She didn’t follow blindly; he knew she thought everything through and regarded strength as her judging priority. There was no way she didn’t see the blood on his hand, and she knew it wasn’t Takhar’s. But she also knew it wouldn’t benefit her to identify it was a weakness.

«Have someone clean that up,» he murmured into her head. It was easy with them, all of them. Snoke had taught them to drop their defenses to him, and they had never had to defend themselves while in a group. Sa’marha’s eyes widened only slightly before she schooled her face again. «We begin something new today.»

Without waiting for her answer, Ben turned away from the ring. Let them stare. Let the ones who had seen tell the others what happened. He went back to his cell-like room and knelt down in front of his bed, making a noise as he dropped the lightsaber hilt onto a towel he’d laid out to dry. He rummaged, one handed, through his bag on the floor, impatiently pulling the salvage piece out and tossing it to to the side to find bandaging for his hand. In the cool dark of his room, he felt sick to his stomach. He hadn’t gone out there this morning to kill Takhar Ren. He didn’t remember actually making the decision. It had just happened, the dark side overwhelming him and re-creating him. His hand was bleeding through the bandage as he carefully took the lightsaber apart, fingers shaking even when he watched them closely.

He swallowed and sat back, feeling himself hollowed out when the case was finally open. It was cracked. Whatever had happened when he’d brought the deathblow down on the Knight’s head, that fierce burst of raw energy he’d felt and heard had cracked the kyber crystal. He covered his face with his uninjured hand, pressing his mouth. He didn’t know if he could fix this. He didn’t know if he could make it work. And now, after he’d just had such a hard-won victory, he needed this. He needed this power.

While he doubted any of the Knights would dare come into his room now, he covered the lightsaber in the other half of the towel and put the bundle into the crate. Pushing himself to his feet, he walked down to the holo room. It was still and quiet in the building; everyone else was outside by this point. He guessed that no one was training. They were likely talking in hushed voices and trying to figure out how to get rid of what used to be their leader. For himself, Ben hoped the interference they tended to experience on calls would be minimal today as he typed in a request for the _Finalizer_ , on Hux’s channel.

The tech flickered, trying to establish a connection, but before a secure line could be established, the request was shut down, and before Ben, the imposing figure of Snoke came into clear view on the holopad.

“What have you done?” The indictment was clear, Snoke’s power filling the room instantly. Frost crept up the walls. Ben’s eyes widened as he looked up to see the Supreme Leader’s face. He’d been expecting Hux, at the strangest maybe Mitaka telling him that the general would call him back. He hadn’t thought he’d be facing Snoke this quickly, or feeling this much of the sentient’s anger filling the room.

“I...I built my weapon as you instructed,” he tried, knowing already that his lightsaber wasn’t the topic of discussion. “I’ve had a...well, a sort of malfunction, but I’m pretty sure I can fix it.”

“Killing Takhar Ren was no malfunction,” Snoke’s voice rose, and the power surrounding Ben was crushing. “How dare you take the life of a man I had chosen, whom I had trained for years? You insolent child; if you have such a thirst for blood simply say so and I will find others to sate your impulses.”

Ben pressed his mouth and felt his eyes closing submissively as his head bowed. He took a sharp breath and raised his head again, pushing back against the power around him.

“You told me to take control of the situation. Takhar Ren had no respect for me; I showed him my power, I offered to train with him. If he hadn’t feared you, he’d have killed me weeks ago,” Ben argued. He tightened his injured fist, using the pain to strengthen himself against the cold pressure in the room.

“Control does not always end in death,” Snoke’s low voice got even more dangerous, angry and terse. “You overstepped and showed your own weakness. Your pride will destroy you.”

“I will allow no one else to disrespect me!” Ben said hotly, leaning forward. “I haven’t just spent my whole life dealing with that to come here and it’s the same kriffing thing!”

“You will control yourself!” Snoke snapped, raising a hand and his power filled the room. “His disrespect is nothing compared to the power you wield!”

“He disrespected me before all of them.” He took a harsh breath, the pressure constricting his lungs. “He wouldn’t yield me my place, so I took it from him. Give me my name. When I stand before my Knights, I must have my name.”

Snoke’s expression froze and his hand fell slightly, although the chill remained in the room.

“You renounce your name? Accept your place here, with me?”

Ben swallowed and rolled his shoulders, the way he did before a fight. Six months, he’d said. He’d try it out for six months. But already he ached to fight again, to feel strong as he had when Takhar knelt before him, when he was all movement, when the dark side made him feel like he could crush the entire planet. How could he go back to the _Falcon_ after this? His burned hand ached beside him.

“My name was never mine. It always belonged to someone else.” He raised his eyes again. “Give me one that has never belonged to anyone else.”

“Kneel, Ben Organa Solo, and I will see you knighted,” Snoke murmured, shifting back to lean against his rough-made chair. It could have been a throne, the way he looked down at Ben.

Ben watched him with his mouth parted slightly, trying to find something to say. There should have been something; a piece of him protested against this. It didn’t matter what Snoke called him, what he called himself, he would still carry those names with him wherever he went. But there was nothing adequate to say. Like the pictures in the books his uncle had, he knelt on his right knee, hands on his raised left. He covered his injured right hand with the other as he looked up.

Snoke regarded him for a minute, letting the silence stretch as if he were weighing Ben, searching into his being.

He nodded once and gestured, lifting Ben up with his own power. The Force was subtle, echoing and calming, calling and chilling all at once.

“Rise, Kylo Ren. He who would be the best of my Knights.”

Ben heard him through a fog as he was raised to his feet again. He felt like he needed to hear it again, his new name. Was that how it happened? The Supreme Leader spoke it aloud and suddenly it was his reality.

“Take your place, as you see it.”

“My place is before the others.” He repeated it in his head. _Kylo Ren._ It didn’t mean anything yet. It meant everything. “Thank you, Supreme Leader.”

Snoke took a deep breath and nodded. “Make it so. But you will not kill another Knight.”

“They will give me no reason to.” Ben shrugged. Kylo Ren shrugged. He knew that there would be other times that they would test him, but none would go as far as Takhar.

Snoke regarded Kylo Ren for another few seconds before he shifted forward. He gestured again with his hand, dismissing the man. “Do not disappoint me again.” The sentient didn’t wait long, and within a few seconds his image faded, leaving the room cold but empty.

His decision ran through him and Ben shivered now that he was alone. Kylo Ren shivered. Luke had always said the dark side was the easy path. What a naive thing to say, he realized now. This wasn’t easy at all. He felt like he’d throw up. He felt like he would scream. He swallowed everything down and looked down at his bandaged hand. The blood was seeping up through the white bandages. He’d cracked the crystal, he knew with certainty. It was Takhar Ren’s dying anger, it was his own killing rage. The energy output would be disrupted now, but maybe it was still usable. He didn’t want to ask for another. This one knew him. Knew him better than anything else now.

Kylo Ren.

He walked over to the wall unit and reloaded his original call request. The tech went through the same procedure, establishing a connection before finding a secure line. This time instead of a holo-projection, a short ping came through.

_Hold. -A Hux_

_Heading to the_ holoroom _. -A Hux_

The tech beeped, and then went silent, a blinking light showing that the transmission was still receiving. Ben sighed and leaned his head side to side to stretch the muscles in his neck. He hadn’t cooled down from the fight and he could feel his muscles tightening up already.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he muttered to himself.

It took about ten minutes for Hux to get into the holoroom, plug in his pad and establish a stronger transmission, but he flickered to life in front of Ben, a very normal-sized man in a crisp uniform, settling his greatcoat on his shoulders as he sat.

He looked up, focussing on Ben. He tilted his head upwards, shifting forwards slightly, straightening his back.

“Ben.”

Compared to the sharp man in front of him, the new Knight felt dirty and shaggy and suddenly exhausted. How had he forgotten that Hux parted his hair that way? Had he forgotten the way he pressed his knees together when he sat?

His new name left the room completely as he smiled at the general.

“Hey, sweet cheeks. This is the first time I’ve managed to get a call through since I got here. How’s the little _Finalizer_?” This was easy, it was almost himself again.

“She’s doing well,” Hux said, shifting slightly, putting an elbow on the arm of the chair. “And you? Your outfit seems a little singed.”

“Burning trees right after breakfast do that.” He didn’t know how he looked, didn’t see where his hair had pulled free of its tie or the way his eyes were shadowed now. He pressed his mouth before speaking again, meeting Hux’s eyes. “Takhar Ren is dead.” He hadn’t meant to tell him fresh off like that; the words had come out before he could grab them back.

Hux’s eyebrows shot up, and he tilted his chin slightly.

“I doubt it was an accident.” Hux’s voice didn’t change at all. “You’re responsible, I’m sure.”

Ben ran his hand through his damp hair as he shrugged. “You’re sure of a lot of things.” He twisted his mouth to the side. “Eh, you’re not wrong. But it’s not like I killed him in his bed or something. It was a fight.” He gave himself his moment of pride. “With my lightsaber.”

“A lightsaber?” Hux had good grace to look surprised and impressed, if only for Ben’s sake. “Where did you find one of those artifacts?”

“I built it.” Ben watched the general’s face carefully, looking for the disdain and disbelief he’d faced earlier from the man who was meat out in the training yard.

“You built it?” Hux seemed incredulous, although his tone held no contempt. “How?”

It was finally easy to smile and he beamed at the general.

“What do you mean, how? You know I’m good with my hands.” He paused then heard himself laugh. “Especially with bits of salvage.” He shook his head. “I need to rethink it though. The kriffing thing blew out so I need to reconfigure the inside for the damage.” He felt no shame in telling Hux. If anyone would understand, he thought it would be the man in front of him.

“I meant how did you get the parts. I’m assuming that there’s a lot of intricate pieces.” He shifted slightly, gesturing. “What do you mean, blew out? I’m not familiar with lightsaber technology.”

Weighing his honesty against the general’s love of direct speech, Ben took his time with an answer. He stretched out the fingers of his right hand just to feel the pain, then he looked at Hux again.

“The Supreme Leader gathered up parts for me to try out. You know, a lot of stuff for me to pick through. But the...okay, so when you build a lightsaber, you have the parts that create the power, and then a focusing crystal.” He knew there would be more questions later, but at this point, he kept it simple. “The kyber crystal installed in mine...cracked. Which blew out the emitter matrix entirely. In good news, it shorted out the power, which means it didn’t actually blow my hand off.” He held up his bandaged right hand.

Hux’s eyebrows were up, and he nodded, almost following along. His eyes flicked from Ben’s hand to his face, still looking a little skeptical. He shook his head and then thought for a second, connecting the pieces in between his own engineering knowledge and that of an ancient, half-mythic weapon.

“So there’s excess energy?” Hux asked, watching Ben’s face.

“Not when it’s focused right. Then it all flows well. But...with the crack, I don’t know. I’m not sure how the energy’s going to move when I get the thing to turn back on at all.” He made a noise. “It’ll be unstable as hells...if it can’t focus right, it’ll blow up every kriffing time, probably. So yeah...I guess probably now. Excess energy that won’t go through the emitter correctly.”

Hux made a noise, shrugging. “Sounds like you need a ventilation system.”

Ben sighed through his nose. What kind of lightsaber had a ventilation system?

“I don’t…” _Know how to do that,_ he finished silently. He’d admitted enough. He couldn’t admit that too. “I need to mess around with it, I guess. And quick. It’s pretty hard to be like hey, guess what? I have a lightsaber so you should respect me...oh, well, damn, now I don’t, but, hey, remember when I did?”

“If you’d like, I can send a Star Destroyer to implode a nearby planet,” Hux said, smirking slightly. “Would that help establish your credibility?”

When he smirked, Ben suddenly remembered how Arrik’s mouth had been soft under his and how he’d exhaled wine and promise. But he laughed a little and shook his head; the garden was too far away.

“There is such a thing as overkill. Didn’t anyone teach you that at the Academy?”

“Well if I only vaporized an ocean or two, what kind of message would that send?” Hux was still smirking and he shrugged. “Obviously, it’s a weaker option, and I never like to leave a planet partially dismantled.”

“Well, depending on how the rest of my training goes, I might take care of that for you.” He paused. “When my call came in, could you see where it was from?”

“It had your callsign attached, I didn’t take the time to run it through a descrambler.” Hux gestured slightly, almost with just his fingertips. “Would you like me to create an algorithm?”

“If no one else will find out about it. No one will tell me where we are. Like they’re afraid I’m going to...fly away and tell someone? I have no idea.” Running his hand through his hair again, he looked around the room before turning his attention back to Hux. “Do you miss me on the ship?”

“I don’t know what kind of tracking is happening on your end,” Hux explained. He tilted his head, to the side, eyebrows up. “Can you fly?” he asked, brushing over the last question. “Is that a Jedi trick I missed?”

Ben laughed again and shook his head. “Nope, can’t fly. There doesn’t seem to be any lore about that either. Sorry if that’s a disappointment.”

“It is slightly depressing,” Hux admitted.

“Everyone wants to fly. Every planet’s first technological instinct is to fly up and get away, isn’t it?” Ben slid his hand over his wide belt to fix a spot where the fabric had folded over.

“It’s possible,” Hux said. “It sounds as if you’ve had an exciting month. Productive, convivial.” Hux tilted his head up, indicating the door behind Ben. “What are they doing now that Takhar has...conveniently left the leadership position open?”

Ben’s smile was the smile he’d worn in the ring. It wasn’t crooked, it showed no teeth. It was his new smile, though as he thought about it, it would have to go too. No one ever knew when the Knights of Ren were smiling.

“They’re waiting for me,” he said simply. “And hopefully disposing of him because, fuck, it gets hot here. Sleeping is brutal.”

“Oh, are they?” Hux’s eyebrows went up again. “Should I start calling you Ren instead of Ben?”  


Should he say it aloud? How much more real would that make it?

“I guess you could,” he said, feeling less flesh than a summation of his names. “It’s Kylo Ren.” He paused then corrected himself. “I’m Kylo Ren.” But with Hux watching him with his clear sky eyes, he didn’t feel like the man in the ring with his crimson lightsaber. He felt like Ben.

“Kylo Ren.” He said the assonant syllables slowly, tilting his head to the side. “I’ve heard worse names.”

“It’s less than ten minutes old; cut it some slack.” He’d kept his eyes on Hux’s mouth as he said it.

“Well whatever you’d like, Ren.”

Did he like it? Ben wasn’t sure. It was strange coming from anyone’s throat.

“It’s the Supreme Leader’s choice,” he said almost primly, though he watched the general for the hint of a smile.

“Mm,” Hux made a noise, not looking away from Ren. “It certainly has a ring to it.”

“I guess we’ll all get used to it.” Ben glanced back to the door, then to Hux again. “I should go. I don’t want them percolating too long without me. And I have to figure out that kriffing lightsaber.”

Hux shifted forwards, as if he could get a better look at Ben through the holoscreen. He made another considering noise. “If that’s all you have to say,” Hux said, shifting back.

“Well, I’ve told you all my exciting news. Here I am, on a hot as the thirteen hells planet, killing my new pals and blowing up my lightsaber because the only one I’ve ever really used was the one my grandfather built and...well, he was a lot better at all of this than me.” Ben exhaled in a rush. “All of it.”

Hux watched him silently, realizing, it was probably the first time that he’d heard Ben admit he wasn’t totally competent. He gestured slightly, indicating Ben’s hand.

“Learn from your mistakes,” he said quietly, watching Ben carefully. “The Supreme Leader would not show this much faith in you just to set you up for failure.”

“Next time I talk to you, I’ll have a lightsaber to show you. A working one.” He heard it in Hux’s voice. The general hadn’t set him up for failure either.

“See it done, then,” Hux said, sitting back. “I look forward to it.” It was about as close to an admission of fondness as Hux would concede.

“Say hi to Phasma for me. She’s probably getting soft without a good sparring partner.” It was hard to end the call.

“She’s doing fine. Plenty of other willing victims eager to get bruised up by her.”

“Well, I’ll test that next time I’m on board.”

“In five months,” Hux said. He shifted, uncrossing his legs. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss with me?”

There had to be. There wasn’t. It was different when there was distance between them.

“I finished the book,” he said finally. “I’ve got to say, I wouldn’t have guessed that Admiral Quunlo would switch sides like that. She always seemed like a straight shooter to me. Really loyal.”

Hux sighed a little, running his hand over his thigh. “Unfortunately, I have no way to send you the next installment.”

“I’ll pick it up next time we’re on Arkanis. I’ll just...think up what I think is going to happen next.” Ben smiled and stepped forward before remembering that wouldn’t actually get him any closer to the general. “So...until then, general.”

Hux regarded Ben with an expression that rested in between confused and entertained.

“Until then, Kylo Ren.” Hux raised his hand and nodded slightly, just barely reminiscent of a bow. Ben wasn’t sure if he should nod or salute or wave; he raised his hand, but before he could decide, the call flickered out and he was alone in the room again.

“A kriffing ventilation system,” he muttered to himself as he walked back to his room. What in the seven hells did Arrik Hux know about lightsabers anyway?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you all for the amazing response. This is an extra long chapter, with no t/ws. Enjoy!

On board the _Finalizer_ , Hux left the holoroom, picking up his datapad as he exited. This new development was interesting and slightly unexpected. He had been sure that Ben would be a Knight, but he hadn’t expected it to happen within the month. It was not an unwelcome development.

He had a meeting with Phasma in a few rotations, and he was sure now that they were going to land on Endor for the technical. It provided a unique setting, there were old Imperial structures, the natives were barely sentient, and there were swathes of uninhabited land. There was also the rumor that before the second Death Star had been destroyed, Luke Skywalker had dragged Darth Vader’s body from the wreckage and escaped onto the planet safely.

It wasn’t much, but it was a hunch. And if most of the infantrymen were going to be landside, it wouldn’t be such a stretch that the general would decide to travel onto the surface as well.

Why not go looking for the ancient relics of a long-dead Sith Lord? It made no sense, and Hux was sure that it would be an absolute waste of his time but maybe he deserved it. He did hand deliver one of the most powerful and well- connected young men in the galaxy into the hands of the Supreme Leader. And said man had very nearly declared allegiance to the First Order not an hour ago.

 _Kylo Ren_ , indeed.

They were in the Western Reaches already, and he sent the adjustments for the course to Endor to the bridge. Phasma was alerted that she would be allowed to bring the entire infantry regiment onto the planet, and Hux asked her for use of a handful of the Elect during the technical.

It didn’t take long, and in less than six rotations, after three meetings with the Captain in order to solidify the exact runs that would be going on, the massive _Finalizer_ loomed over Endor, orbiting the planet that had caused the destruction of the second Death Star. It was a strange feeling, watching the planet pass beneath the Star Destroyer as they put the ship into a high-altitude orbit for the duration of the tech.

He left the bridge in the hands of his colonel and lieutenant, going to his own shuttle and boarding it already dressed in a uniform that resembled fatigues. On board were the four members of the Elect Phasma had decided should attend the general, despite the far-fetched ghost he chased.

She had kept the strategists and battle planners near her and had given him a special squad designed for success and tracking. Although how they were going to trace a rumor was a mystery.

On board the _Javelin_ , Hux addressed the Elect in the lounge, pulling up a large map of the area the Rebel spies had infiltrated and compromised the shield base.

“This is the abandoned base. Nearby is the Ewok settlement where the Rebels received aid during their attack.” The mentioned areas lit up on the screen, and as Hux gestured, the map floated down to appear as a holo in the center of the lounge. He pointed and another structure flashed on the holo. “This is a shuttle bay that the Galactic Empire used to travel from Endor to the Death Star. It may be the best place to start our search.

“There is no guarantee of success, but I believe that the Jedi Luke Skywalker took Lord Vader’s body to the surface-” The map expanded, showing a wider range of the surface. “My guess is that the body is somewhere within ten clicks of the shuttle bay.”

HN-5672 was already making notes on the datapad in front of him, building on the maps that the general had pre-loaded for them when they were assigned this mission. Tracking down the dead Sith Lord’s body seemed like a strange diversion, but he didn’t mind seeing the moon where Rebel Alliance had initiated the final takedown of the Empire. He enjoyed learning from the things in the past that didn’t work; too often people used and re-used old tactics to the point of predictability. Learning from the past meant never repeating the stupid mistakes. HN-5672, Hunter to his team, didn’t have a lot of patience for stupid.

“All of the area is heavily forested, sir, with rapid regrowth because of the climate. We won’t be able to depend on any areas that had been cleared for something like a funeral to have remained clear,” he said, baritone voice always mild.

“Of course. After thirty years I doubt much remains,” Hux admitted, gesturing again. “Jedi tradition dictates that their dead be cremated.”

MM-0116, leaning against the wall of the shuttle, glanced over at the Elect’s technology specialist, TN-1333, whom they called Trip. She stood up from the couch, going over to the holomap.

“I don’t have anything that will track a burn site, but we can attach scanners to our bikes that will alert us to unnatural structures. Huts, landing pads, anything that’s built up, or was, we’ll get some kind of notice,” Trip explained, glancing over at Hux.

Hux nodded, taking a step back. “Good. That’ll be a start.”

“We shouldn’t have to worry about the natives, most of their structures are in the treetops.”

“Ewoks are tenacious and are actually skilled with several types of traps for hunting,” HN-5672 added, looking up from his datapad for a moment. “Particularly with the density of the forest, it’s something to watch out for.”

Hux glanced back at Trip, who shrugged. “Their main concern is food, so I’m still confident we won’t run into much trouble.” Hunter kept his thoughts to himself; technically, they were food.

The general nodded, looking back to the holoscreen. “We’ll start at the shuttle base and work our way outward.”

SA-3941 raised his hand, shifting forward on the couch. “How long are we taking for this mission?”

“Today should be enough time to cover the ten-k radius on speeders, even going slowly.” Hux blew up the map, the three areas highlighted in bright orange, the search perimeter a dimly glowing yellow against the greenery. “After that we can re-evaluate the directive and see if it’s worth pursuing further.”

This was, after all, a vanity mission, with no real purpose other than to indulge a small, insignificant whim. None of the Elect had questioned it for a second; they were honored to serve. Recovering relics of the Galactic Empire was by no means out of the ordinary for the First Order, and while the Elect weren’t generally called on for recovery missions like this, they certainly understood the sensitivity of these kinds of missions.

“We’ll stay in communication throughout. Since I’ll use your callsigns instead of your designations, I’m granting permission for casual address.”

The troopers all nodded to him. This wasn’t their first mission with the general, though he didn’t go planetside very often for things like this. They weren’t concerned about his safety considering the place they were going was inhabited by sentients still using spears. There was already a plan in place to make sure that, should things take a sudden turn, Hux’s safety was immediately their number one priority.

The general took a step back from the holomap, sitting down on one of the chairs and pulling out his pad to quickly answer a few messages before pulling up his own map of the area. All of this was conjecture. Well-informed, meticulously researched conjecture, but still without much basis. Hux wasn’t even terribly sure what he was looking for, if he even wanted to find a long-dead Sith’s remains on the planet moon.

The only explanation he could give himself was that it might help Ben focus more. There were records of Sith artifacts holding unimaginable powers. Ben himself had admitted that he had to rely on a small crystal to harness and use his lightsaber. Maybe providing some kind of talisman for the Ben’s own thoughts might help him understand himself. What better trinket than something belonging to his unknown and yet ever-present grandfather?

After securing their own landing site, the Elect put Hux’s plan into motion quickly. They split into groups on speeders and quickly established their perimeter. They encountered none of the native life forms that could complicate their efforts, though Hunter did disassemble several traps near areas they’d paused the speeders to look over more carefully after Trip’s sensors had alerted them to structures nearby. Hunter made a face behind his helmet at the sight of the primitive nets and tangled ropes. How could anyone argue with a need for First Order rule when there were sentients hunting with actual wooden spears?

They spread out in formation, no further than ten meters apart, moving at a slow clip to allow the scanners to alert them to any irregularities. They had to avoid a few old AT-walkers, and Hux was actually pleased to see the scanners picking up debris from downed speeders, even thirty years later.

It was tedious work, and honestly quite beneath the skills and status of the Elect Hux had accompanying him. They continued around the shuttle compound in circles, spreading outwards slowly, creating an intricate surface map. Not so far away, at another abandoned shield compound, sounds of the training technical were heard. Otherwise, the planet was still, and even through dense foliage sounds of blaster fire and explosions (all non-lethal, the blasters set to stun, the explosions throwing up only dirt and colored powder) carried even to where the men and women searched the underbrush.

Hunter turned to his right and watched Trip hack away at another tangle of thick vines. He didn’t think the site they were looking for would be this close to the compound. While he didn’t know much about Jedi, he did know that burning bodies gave off an unpleasant smell, and if Skywalker had been burning Vader, for whatever reason he was doing it, he would have not done it this way.

He activated the comm in his helmet, waiting for the tell tale crackle that it was live.

“General, judging by the information that Trip pulled up, there’s some kind of encampment to the west. I think we’ll have better luck if we move past that and set up a new search perimeter there. Judging by the location, it may have been the site of the sentients aiding the Rebels. Skywalker wouldn’t have burned a body on this side of the encampment; that would have put the Rebels downwind.” He paused, looking down at the map he’d pulled up from his wrist holo unit.

“I don’t think that Skywalker would have dragged a body the size of Vader’s too far away from where they landed,” Hux said, slowing down the speeder. “Take Salt and do another survey of the land where you suspect he might have gone.”

Ems looked over at Hux, and although the general couldn’t read her expression he was sure that she was less than impressed with the way that Trip was going about her duties.

Hux, for all his ego, was not about to cross out ideas that were not his own. Hunter was a skilled tracker, and if he thought that there might be a better chance of finding the pyre elsewhere, then splitting up made sense.

“Keep your comm lines on. We’ll contact you if anything comes up.”

“Yes, sir. Salt, with me.” Hunter headed toward the area on his map that indicated the tree structures the Ewoks favored, though his sensors indicated there were no life forms there now as they approached. “It wouldn’t have burned well,” he continued to the other Elect as they slowed their speeders, looking up to the series of platforms and bridges that swayed above them when the wind blew. “Darth Vader’s suit. From what I researched, seems like the whole thing had been treated against fire.”

Salt turned up the tech on his speeder, getting it to spread throughout the floor, following a few lengths behind Hunter, off to the side.

“Where do you think the remains ended up?” Salt asked, adjusting his tech carefully. “The general’s right; Vader was nearly a giant.”

“Wouldn’t Skywalker have had those spooky Jedi magical powers?” Hunter’s tone was mocking, though his voice remained somehow mild. “I’d assume that the pyre would have been part of the victory celebration the Rebels were holding. Why else would Skywalker have bothered to bring Vader down to Endor?”

Hunter turned slowly, looking around again. “The burn site should be close to the settlement, but upwind…” He held his hand up as he turned, frowning, trying to feel the air, watching the tree tops. “Which would take us in this direction.”

The trooper got back on his speeder, moving slowly, scanning the dense brush below. He and Salt were only a few meters apart, their scanners crossing over so they didn’t miss anything. “Considering the environment, and the armor, and how intense a fire can be that can be built without proper tech, there could be something intact.” He shrugged and glanced over at Salt. “If Skywalker brought him at all.”

Salt was still looking down, adjusting the scanner, and he shifted on the seat, his speeder easily avoiding a downed trunk.

“Spooky powers or not, carting around a dead body, plus armor, is not my idea of an easy hike.”

“He could have had transport. There’s nothing to say he was carrying him over his shoulder,” Hunter mused. “Wait. Go slow here…” He pointed to the side. “New tree growth, potentially from a clearing that was made. It would be too close for the settlement to use for their firewood, but would be in eyeshot of those big platforms up there.” He adjusted the scanner on his helmet’s display, looking at the older trees around them for evidence of fire damage.

Salt slowed his speeder down, leaning over so that they covered more ground. He looked up, scanning the area slowly, and then stopped his cruiser.

“Scorch mark,” he said, examining the barren area on a tree where no bark grew. “It looks too clean to be lightning.”

“We have no evidence these tree dwellers made use of ground level cook sites. If there’s fire down here, that’s an off worlder.” Hunter activated his comm link to Hux. “General, we’ve found evidence of a ground level fire. Salt and I are moving forward. Sending coordinates.”

Salt began to circle the clearing slowly, tuning the scanner to concentrate on a smaller area. Because of the massive trees, the undergrowth was short and not overwhelming. He crossed in front of Hunter’s speeder and made another rotation before his scanner pinged.

“Hunt.” Salt stopped his speeder over the unusual form. It looked strange on his scanner; non-organic, almost seven feel long, more scraps spread out around them. The underbrush revealed nothing, they could have passed over this exact spot a dozen times and not seen anything unusual. “I think you got it.”

Hux received the coordinates and led the two members of the Elect to the site, where Salt and Hunter were waiting for their arrival. Hux found the spot where Salt’s tech had found the disturbance and slid off his speeder, boots crunching in the undergrowth. Hunter had already marked off areas that he’d ruled out, though he’d waited for their commander before plunging into the brush any more. He’d also waited out of respect for the fact that it seemed Hux would want to be there if they made a discovery.

“General,” he greeted Hux as he approached. “We’ve found more evidence of a high temperature fire in this area. Assuming that whatever was left would be buried nearby but not exactly on the spot, given ground composition and the area of new growth, I’m setting a site to the north of where we’re standing, and not far at all.”

“Good work,” Hux said, holding his pad in one hand, looking through the underbrush as he slowly walked northwards. “This was a long shot down an empty cave.”

The remains might have been carried or moved by any number of factors. Weather, sentients, any additional Rebel forces that could have patrolled, looking for the last remains of the Galactic Empire on the lonely, green laden moon.

After walking north for a few minutes, Hux stopped suddenly and took a step back. Crouching down, he brushed away some loam to find a grooved, twisted piece of armor. He pulled it out of the underbrush before setting it against a tree, frowning. He looked it over for a few more seconds before standing again.

“A leg brace.” He glanced over at Hunter and nodded. “I think we want something a little more distinctive.” The stormtrooper nodded and walked over to the general, orienting himself from the position of the armor. He tapped a few buttons on his wrist unit, then crouched to get a better look at the area. If the general hadn’t been with them, he’d have actually pulled his helmet off; Captain Phasma allowed it under certain circumstances, but he wouldn’t ask the general. After a minute, he straightened up and walked forward, pushing long weeds out of the way before crouching again. His white armor nearly disappeared in the dark green foliage as he ducked down, pulling fallen rotted wood and saplings out of the rich brush.

He pulled up a black lump first, a brick of a tech piece with any kind of connectors long since melted away. The belt next, at least he thought that’s what it was, the front connector, but it crumbled in his hand. Hunter shifted forward, hearing crackling noises beneath him. He wasn’t even sure if this had been buried and brought up by scavenging animals or if the remains had just been laid here for the forest to take.

Using both hands, the stormtrooper dug away the thick sludge of fallen leaves and shoved aside another rotten log before lifting his prize. It came away from the earth with some resistance, vines twisting through the cracks that had been twisted inward by the heat of the blaze.

“Sir,” he called as he knelt up, pulling long thin curls of vines and pale leaves away from the black plasteel helmet. “What about this?” It only struck him afterwards that there was no ruined face inside the cracks, no skull rattling inside the empty space.

Hux followed behind Hunter, leaning down to take the helmet from him and lifting it up. He nodded once, allowed himself something like a smile of satisfaction, and then held his hand out to Hunter to help the Elect up off the ground.

“Good work.”

The strange, skull-like appearance of the helmet was due to the fire-twisted face, the warped modulator. Plasteel wasn’t meant to endure the kind of heat a funeral blaze would have produced. The black veneer had even turned matte and ashen, by what natural element Hux didn’t know. He turned it over slowly, inspecting it before nodding and taking a step back.

“Unless you would like to explore, I believe I’ve had my fill,” he said, voice nonchalant. “You are free to join Captain Phasma or accompany me back on board the _Finalizer_. All of you are relieved of any duties you may have been assigned during the layover.” It was as much of a reward as he was going to give, and the general glanced up at Ems as he passed her, going to his speeder.

Hunter looked around at the other three, satisfaction in the set of his shoulders. It had been a strange mission, but there was honor in finding the remains of Lord Vader, in letting General Hux take that helmet back on board the _Finalizer_. Perhaps the ultimate symbol of the Empire, the person the Rebel Alliance had despised the most. He felt good, and they had time to kill.

“Anyone up for a hunt?” he asked.

* * *

 

While the others were used to the seasons changing on the planet, each one was new to Kylo Ren. As he was new to the planet, he figured when the daily rains came with even hotter weather and nights that finally permeated the stone compound with heat that it must have been some kind of summer. At night he dreamed about the breezes coming over the river on Hosnian Prime, turning his head to whisper something against a waiting mouth. When he meditated during the day, sweat dripping down his back, he found himself digging into the same places he’d dug in a garden on Arkanis. As he came back up out of the darkness, he heard the rain pouring down outside and for half a second, displaced, he thought of rain on the thick mansion windows.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of the lightsaber resting on his knee as he opened his eyes. A few months training with it and it was part of him. That was a lie; he fought it every single day. Venting the excess energy from the crystal hadn’t been the easiest configuration, and it didn’t make for the stablest of weapons. It had blown out twice more on him, and he had the scars on his hands and wrists to show for taming it. He’d come to appreciate the handling, however, the long blade that almost looked jagged, the two side vents forming small daggers that he was incorporating into the style he was practicing every day. This lightsaber wasn’t the easiest for delicate handling, not like the one his uncle kept (That flash of anger- why hadn’t his uncle let him take it? Wasn’t he able to handle it without supervision?). Kylo Ren, who still didn’t always answer the first time someone called his name, had learned that he needed to depend more on the Force than on the fancy moves his uncle had favored. Granted, his strong swings were a power that verged on natural disaster, but it was, strangely, the scholar’s style, the Niman form, that he’d come to adopt. It had a strong emphasis on Force abilities suited to his new style. Really, that wasn’t something he’d needed to learn; he’d always leaned very heavily on his abilities, the things that had come naturally to him, as naturally as breathing.

Breathing deeply brought him back to the now as he glanced around the small dark room with its two candles flickering in red glass containers. Two Knights. Sa’marha was still in trance beside him. Her meditation skills were the strongest out of them, born from some deep stillness inside. He thought it was like still waters over a maelstrom, or the smoothness over sinking sands. Whatever it was, there was deep emotion for her to draw from...and she meditated, as always, hovering at least two feet off the ground.

Sa’marha blinked and then slowly settled to the ground, running her hands through her hair carefully. She looked over at Ben, frowning.

“Is something wrong?”

“Just thinking,” he answered, blowing out his candle with a negligent gesture. A bit of a smile crept onto his face. His amusement was rarer, but it was still there. «How do you do that?»

Sa’marha shrugged, pulling her arms up over her head and stretching.

«Breathe real deep.»

“Like to the core of the planet or what?” Ben shook his head, then pushed himself to his feet. “Zayrâl will be leaving later when the supply shipment comes in. Could you attend the drop off and make sure we got the equipment we requested?” Since Takhar’s death, leadership had naturally flown to him; he hadn’t had to take it out of anyone else’s skin. He didn’t take any huge pride in it. It was just the way it was. It felt natural. He trusted Sa’marha most of all his Knights. He expected that he would have one final altercation with Marden Ren before his place was rooted in stone.

“Did you ask for something particularly vital?”

“I did. There should be three crates, all with parts for you to upgrade your weapons.” Their weapons had been a challenge when he’d used the practice blades, but none of them could stand up for long against his lightsaber. He wanted more out of them.

«What’s wrong with our weapons?» The Zabrak frowned as she stood up, almost defensive.

Ben flicked his eyebrows up as he looked over at her, not speaking, but talking to her directly. He found he preferred this. «Longer than twenty minutes in the ring with me and they’ll be scrap.»

«When we go on missions we won’t be fighting you,» she pointed out pragmatically, leaning over to blow out the candle.

Ben hesitated before answering, not sure he wanted to say it out loud.

“I’m not the only one out there with a lightsaber.” He looked down to clip it to his belt, then turned to walk with her to the door, pushing the curtain aside. “Oh good. Rain. I was worried we wouldn’t get any today.”

Sa’marha stared at his back before following. There were a few more questions she had for Kylo, but she let them go. She nodded once and made a noise before turning, heading to go to her own rooms. “I’ll see to the shipment.”

He watched her walk down the hall then nodded to himself before heading to the yard. The sluicing rain made no difference; they’d train exactly as they did every other day. He had forgotten what it felt like to be dry. He found that he envied the other Knights their helmets when he found himself blinded by the rain in his eyes. Several of them were already waiting for him; Zayrâl was stretching, his long body arched back. They’d left their heavier clothes in their rooms. It was bad enough to be sopping wet without having to deal with extra layers of wet fabric weighing you down.

“Mar’s going to be out in a minute,” he called as he walked toward the others. “Zayrâl, you’re leaving us today. Is there anything you want to work on before you go?”

“Not unless you have an assignment for me.” Zayrâl straightened, looking over at Kylo. He had taken off his outer cloak and his arms were covered in tattoos. His helmet was set down by his feet.

“I still think you should work more on bolt deflection, but you’re fast enough to avoid them.” Ben shrugged, lightsaber still in his hand as he walked over to the others.

“I’ll find a way,” the Knight muttered, reaching down to pick up his helmet up and put it on. He lifted his massive sword and channeled his power through his limbs, making himself stronger and faster, able to wield the blade he held tightly.

Ben rolled his shoulders and laughed, but under his breath; it wasn’t audible over the pounding of the rain on the ground and on their shoulders.

“We could just let Noxen start taking shots at you, practice that way.” He glanced over at the sniper, then back to Zayrâl.

“I’d rather not,” the Knight said, swinging his blade upwards and then around, the sharp metal hissing through the rain. His voice was soft, but not kind.

“Because you’re afraid?” Ben’s voice dropped slightly in register as he watched Zayrâl. Something happened to him when he was about to turn on his lightsaber. The jokes faded away. Maybe it was Ben Solo who was fading away. Kylo Ren had no time for fear. He had enough of it gnawing away at the things inside him that were still tender.

“I’d rather have practice first rather than put myself needlessly in danger.” The Knight took a deep breath and then went into a series of slashes and thrusts that drove him forward, past the point of normal physical bounds of a human being. Zayrâl had trained for years, had infused the dark power of the Force into his body, tearing his muscles apart and repairing them again, stitching them together with the power Snoke had awoken in him.

Ben held his lightsaber out from his side, giving it the space it needed when he turned it on. For a moment, it was that smooth, single blade again; almost immediately, the energy threatened to overcome the matrix and the side vents diverted it when the gates opened, simultaneously sending out twin short blades. He’d added vent shrouds to protect his hand; the curved pieces of metal were plain, without ornamentation and each the side of one half of a cigarette case. He swung the blade by his side, then in a figure eight in front of his body. The rain evaporated instantly where it came in contact with the red plasma blade.

Zayrâl turned, facing Kylo, and he extended his power outward, just enough so that he could mimic Ben’s movements, side to side, turning with the other man, movements in sync. He shifted his stance to imitate Ben, swept his arms up, blocking with his massive sword. As Ben turned he did too, as Kylo cut with his blade, Zayrâl did as well.

The moves they went through were a combination of the exercises several of them had done individually. Ben had put them together into a very long, challenging series that allowed them to practice their weapons techniques as well as their Force abilities. There were blocks and throws that, while they didn’t actually send their full power behind them, they felt in the arms and wrists as they went through the different sections.

While Zayrâl’s movements were unimpeded by the shifting energies in Ben’s blade, he still had to concentrate hard to keep up with Ben, forcing himself to step forward with Ben, swing when Ben swung, turn and jump up to drive his sword down, the blade digging into the ground before they wrenched their blades free, spinning and lashing out, holding their swords with one hand.

The rain pummeled them as the gusts picked up, the thick treetops above them blowing silvery white when the leaves flipped in the wind. Ben’s wet hair whipped his face when he spun, holding the lightsaber above his head with both hands before bringing the blade down in a diagonal slash. The other Knights had fallen in around them, moving in the series and using the adaptations they’d developed for their own weapons.

In the early afternoon, the rain finally let up a bit and Ben found himself standing in the burning sun, which didn’t dry things so much as just turn the air instantly sticky. He clipped his lightsaber to his belt and looked around. Betuo was stretching, using Marden as his partner. Sa’marha had walked apart from the group, repeating a certain staff swing over and over. He turned to Zayrâl.

“The ship will try to land while the weather’s eased up a little.” He pressed his mouth and ran the back of his wrist over his forehead, then shoved his hair back. It was getting long; he needed to cut it one of these days.

Zayrâl had his blade stuck in the soft ground, and he was slowly stretching. He glanced over at Ben and nodded.

“I’ll head over.”

“Mar’s going to go with you. To make sure the supplies we ordered are all here this time.” Ben lingered, one hand on his hip as he looked away from all of them. His clothes were steaming as they dried. “What ship will you be using for your main transport?”

“There’s a Class-V Eclipse snap shuttle in the bay. It can make the lightspeed jump.”

“Aren’t you rendezvousing with a larger ship for the trip?” Ben asked. It was more than curiosity. He knew where Zayrâl was headed, and he knew which Star Destroyer patrolled that quadrant.

“With the _Finalizer_ ,” Zayrâl agreed, undoing his helmet as he made his way under the canopy. Ben walked with him, clasping his hands behind his back and pulling his arms up to stretch them. The _Finalizer_. A ship he’d traveled on before. Zayrâl Ren had been the first Knight whose name he’d heard. From Hux. On board the _Finalizer_.

“Give my regards to the general, huh?” he said finally. What else could he have the Knight tell him? Ben had barely managed ten minutes in the holo room with him this entire time, and his training was half done. The unreliable comm system was infuriating.

“Of course.” Zayrâl turned, leaving the training area, going back into the covered hallway. “Anything else you’d like to relate?”

“Tell him...he was right about the ventilation system.” Ben paused. “Tell him...you know, nevermind. Just that. Good luck with your mission, Zayrâl Ren.”

The Knight watched Ben, frowning slightly. He bowed slightly and then turned to get to his shuttle, leaving Ben in the hallway.

Ben walked back to his room, stripping out of his wet clothes as he did. He hung them up on hooks in the wall, taking down other clothes that, while not dry, weren’t as wet as the things he’d just taken off. He re-clipped the lightsaber to his belt, then wrung his hair out on his way out the door before tying it back up again messily. At this rate, by the time the wet season was over, he was pretty sure he’d be moldy.

The hallways were empty as he walked down to the holo room. Unless the Supreme Leader wanted one or several of the Knights, sometimes all of them, he felt like he was the one who was in here most often. Granted, ninety percent of the time he walked out again frustrated. He wasn’t sure why Snoke’s calls always got through, but the ones he made to the _Finalizer_ almost never did.

Hope springs eternal, he reminded himself as he typed in the call number, adding the extra digits to get directly to Hux. He stood by the holo pad with his hands behind his back as he tried to remember who’d always said that to him. His uncle Lando? Lor San Tekka?

The tech beeped gently and announced in faded aurek-besh that the call had connected. The message came through same as it had two months ago.

_Hold -A Hux_

On the pad, the transmission continued, soft beeps echoing through the room. The holo flicked to life pretty quickly, and Hux’s disheveled form appeared. He had obviously woken up, risen out of bed and put himself in front of the holo projector. He pushed back from the the small receiver, running his hands through his hair and he looked over Ben, eyes flicking across his face and then down to the lightsaber.

“Kylo Ren,” Hux said, shifting back again and gesturing. “You have a knack for timing.”

Ben was shocked the call had actually gone through; for a few seconds, he didn’t say anything. Then the holo flickered and the image of Hux went jagged for a minute and he rushed on.

“You didn’t have to get up.” He took his time looking Hux over as well. He was wearing actual pajamas. Who did that, besides his mom? His hair was soft and floppy over his forehead as soon as the general had moved his hand.

“I suppose not.”

“How’re you? I mean...sleeping. Obviously. But how’s the ship? How’s Phasma?” The questions were inane and he heard his voice bounce back to him off the stone walls, heard it like someone else was talking.

“The ship is running, the captain is well, and I was sleeping, thank you for noticing.” He took a deep breath, rubbing his hand on his leg. “And you? The Knights? Your lightsaber? Training?”

“Oh, I’m good. Wet. This kriffing planet has a rainy season eighty percent of the time. Do I look mossy to you?” He leaned in, smiling a little. When he spoke to Hux, he was Ben again. The anger drained away a little, and his voice sounded like his own.

“I know a thing or two about rainy planets,” Hux muttered, taking another deep breath and running his hand through his hair again. “The trick is to stay out of the rain.”

“The training grounds are outdoors. It’s alright at first because the trees deal with it before it gets down to us. Once they’re soaked, so’re we.” Ben shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll dry out eventually. Training’s going fine. It’s all...better than it was.” He was stronger, physically and mentally, and while his leadership wasn’t entirely unquestioned yet, he was clearly the best Knight and clearly had chosen to take his place at their head.

The general looked back at him, the question written over his face. “Is that so.” He shifted again, taking a deep breath and willing himself out of any fatigue. “What changed?”

It had been instant when Takhar Ren died under his lightsaber. It had been gradual as he redesigned their training to suit their dark side use of their weapons. He wasn’t sure what he could define as the changing aspect. The borderline of distrust between him and them was eroding day by day.

“I did,” he said with a slightly surprised tone. “They’re mine now.”

“Yours?” Hux didn’t sound surprised, but his posture showed he was interested.

“Mine,” Ben repeated. “Without Takhar Ren, they were looking for another tip for the arrow. I don’t know if they thought they wanted me, but I’m the best man for the job. Besides,” he shrugged, smirking. “Even with Takhar Ren, they were in need of new management. The way he used the abilities he had, I don’t know, it was like he was jealous of some of the others. Now everyone pushes themselves to their own limit.”

“Have you been let off world yet?” Hux asked, taking another deep breath. “Gotten a chance to try out your newfound leadership?”

“Nope, I’ve been here the whole time. You’ll have a Knight up there soon, but it won’t be me.”

“Zayrâl Ren, yes.” He shifted again in his seat, watching Ben.

“Did you pick him? Or did that just happen, your ship being there?” His hand moved to his lightsaber, then he dropped it to his side again.

“He’s familiar with my ship, and we’re going through an area where he’s well known,” Hux explained, his eyes following Ben’s hand. “We’re…” There was static suddenly, the holo flickered, “needs a bit of attention...he’s rather adept at get—”

Ben stepped closer as the holo broke up, at first just losing words when Hux’s image and voice grew staticky and indistinct. Then the pad was just empty as the call terminated itself in the middle of a sentence.

“What?” Ben swore viciously under his breath, going over to the comm unit to try to place the call again. “Come on...now?” He wanted to know what the general had been about to say. Zayrâl Ren was strong, he knew that, but Hux spoke about him with a strange sleepy familiarity. Or maybe that was just the way it sounded as the signal was killed. The call refused to go through and Ben stepped away from the wall with a furious noise. “Seriously?”

He worked his mouth angrily as he paced in a small circle, hands on his head. Adept at what? Instilling fear in communities who opposed the First Order? Any of the Knights when fully decked out in their scarred helmets and layers of heavy black could do that. Hells, anyone with a weapon as big as Zayrâl’s could do that. Who needed attention? An unhelpful governor who refused to let them build factories in his jurisdiction or the man who’d sat there with his legs crossed and his lids half closed over eyes the holovid made colorless but which he knew were bright and pale blue, somehow at the same time?

There was a moment of surety in him suddenly. He didn’t need the equipment in this room. Already he and Sa’marha rarely spoke aloud, only to break an extended silence rather than by need. What should stop him from talking to someone whose mind he knew so well? Really, he knew parts of Arrik Hux that no one else did. Why shouldn’t Kylo Ren be able to reach him?

He set his hand against the cool wall and closed his eyes. His mind was a tangle of images and sensations. Acrid smoke, soft lips pressed against teeth, a sharp slap, stiff cool cloth over the warmth of a thigh, the sting of glass where it pressed in between ribs.

«Arrik.» It was even easier to say it correctly in his head. His mind rolled over the sounds where his tongue lagged. «Arrik, can you hear me?»

He frowned with concentration, fingers dragging against the wall as he lifted his palm. His own heart was pounding in his ears and he hated it.

«Arrik! Listen to me!» He extended himself as far as he could, felt limits that were new. He couldn’t push past them. Kylo gasped and opened his eyes, feeling exhausted in the dark quiet of the room. There was nothing, no hint that he’d been heard at all.

Spinning away from the wall, Kylo Ren gritted his teeth and found his lightsaber in his hand somehow. It was hot in his hand; the mechanic in him whispered a reminder about the cooling vanes. But Kylo Ren was already in motion, slashing at the comm unit with brutal strokes. He moved with none of the grace he’d had in the rain. He was simply a tool of destruction as his rage left the tech a smoking ruin. He stepped back as he turned the blade off, staring at the glowing edges of dark gashes through screens and plasteel casings.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, eyes a little wide as he surveyed the wreckage. Well, at least he wouldn’t get a scolding call about it. He exhaled shakily and turned, walking out of the room and back out towards the rain that was just starting up again.

On board the _Finalizer_ , quite a few light years away, Arrik Hux sat back in the chair. He took a deep breath, running his hands over his face and then through his hair, leaning back. He didn’t have a way to reconnect to whatever dock that Ben was working from, and he sat there for a few minutes without moving, waiting for the holo to flicker back to life, the ping on his pad that notified him of an incoming transmission.

He wasn’t quite sure what to think, blinking at the empty space where had been the imposing figure of Kylo Ren. His hair was long, his face had been chiseled, and whatever strength he had developed from sheer bulk and moving shipments had been developed into something much leaner and stronger. He wondered what Ben wanted to tell him, what he had wanted to hear, and decided that it would have to wait. Sitting there, watching the blank space, Hux knew that he still had that hold on Ben, at least on some level. It was satisfying to know that there was some part of Ben still inside Kylo Ren who kept that attachment.

After about fifteen minutes of not hearing anything, not feeling anything, Hux made a noise, standing up and heading back to his berth. He got back into his bed and fell asleep fast, his pad back on the sill to charge.

Planetside, Ben ran past the muddy training ground and headed for the landing pad. The rain was just starting out, a drizzle that spattered his face. He saw Zayrâl standing by the lowered ramp of the transport vehicle, sword over his shoulder and other arm crossed over his chest while he waited for the sentients to finish unloading the crates. Sa’marha was there too, as he’d asked her to be. She stood back to observe the pilot and co-pilot make trip after trip, not engaging until they were finished and she could go through the supplies all at once. She glanced over when Ben slowed his run to a brisk walk as he got closer.

“Zayrâl,” said as he walked up. “I forgot what I wanted to say earlier, for you to relay to General Hux.” He looked over at the pilot, who was checking something on one of the outer vents. Ben itched to go over there; he could see from here that there was debris lodged between the outer hood and the vent itself. That had been him, a hundred, a thousand times, making a drop off on a planet with lousy weather, waiting for the mysterious recipients to get done with whatever mysterious thing they were doing so he could take off again. But Kylo Ren didn’t worry himself with exhaust systems and co-pilots. He looked back to the other Knight, hearing Sa’marha behind him popping the seal on one of the crates to take inventory.

Zayrâl stood up a little straighter, looking over at Ben. He nodded once, turning towards him.

“Yes?”

“Tell him in two weeks, during his off shift, he should be alone and waiting to hear from me. Two weeks from today.” He could figure it out by then. He could push himself past those limits. “Tell him to remember the night of the dinner. He should listen like that.”

While he was wearing his helmet, Zayrâl’s face was unreadable, but he tilted his head slightly, obviously confused. He nodded once, a little deeper.

“I will relate this to him in three day’s time.”

Ben nodded to the other Knight. “Safe journey. Come back victorious.” As though there was any other way to return.

This time Zayrâl did bow, arm across his torso, palm turned upwards, fingers held together as if they were curved to hold water. Sa’marha looked up, and then glanced over at Ben.

«It’s a sign of respect.» She continued to observe the inventory, the numbers and metals echoing through her thoughts. «Traditional on his home planet.»

Ben Solo would have grinned to break up a moment like that, uncomfortable with that level of formality. Kylo Ren blinked slowly, not turning his head toward Sa’marha but keeping his eyes on Zayrâl in front of him. He inclined his head, an acceptance of the other Knight’s respect without lessening his own stature. He gestured to the pilot who stood at the top of the ramp, watching them.

“You should go now before the rains pick up again.” He looked back to the Knight once more, watching him as he turned to head into the shuttle. Ben couldn’t help the corners of his mouth quirking upward when the co-pilot ducked away from Zayrâl as he passed by on his way into the ship.

It took the snap shuttle the three full rotations to reach the _Finalizer_. Hux had been notified of its arrival, and left the bridge to meet with the Knight at the docking bay. He had spent some part of his free time wondering exactly what Ben had been trying to tell him, if he had just called him up for a casual chat or if there was some other kind of revelation he was hoping to impart.

He took a deep breath, watching the shuttle dock, squaring his shoulders. Zayrâl was a silent interloper, but he still commanded respect throughout his ship. There would be only a few trooper squads that would interact with him, and only a handful of petty officers would direct his comings and goings. For the most part, Hux and Zayrâl’s missions were separate.

The Knight of Ren walked down the lowered shuttle ramp as though he was already on his mission. He carried his sword over his shoulder, and the countless smaller weapons were all in place in sheaths and holsters around his waist and thigh and shoulder. The brighter lights of the docking bay reflected off the curves of his helmet as he walked toward where the general was waiting with his troopers. The usual chatter that accompanied a ship coming in was stilled; Zayrâl Ren stalked toward Hux in silence.

When he reached the general, he nodded, though it was barely a dip of the head. He was no part of the First Order hierarchy and answered to no one but the Supreme Leader. He had respect for General Hux, but there was nothing else. There never needed to be.

“General.”

“Zayrâl Ren.” Hux’s tone matched the Knight’s, respectful and distant. “I hope you had an uneventful journey.”

“Yes.”

Hux’s eyebrows raised slightly, but he wouldn’t say that he expected more from the man. He gestured and then turned, walking to the lift.

“I’ve prepared the state room for you, unless you have a preference.”

Zayrâl stepped to walk beside Hux as they walked into the lift, not bothering to turn his head when he spoke to him next. He watched the door almost fixedly.

“Kylo Ren sends two messages for you,” he said evenly, though it still struck him as strange. The messages themselves were stranger still, but their new leader was nothing if not unorthodox.

“Now is your chance to deliver them,” Hux said quietly, frowning a little.

“First, he wished me to give you his regards and tell you that you were correct about the ventilation system.” Zayrâl had no context for this, though he knew that Kylo Ren, when he had still been known as Ben Solo, had come to the First Order with the general on board the Finalizer. Ben Solo, he also knew, had previously been living as a smuggler while he wasted his talents, and perhaps he and the general had conversed about ships while they traveled.

Hux’s expression lightened considerably, and he felt as if he should be proud, even though the suggestion had been purely speculation. He nodded once.

“Good to hear.”

“The second message is that in eleven days, during your off shift, you should make sure you’re alone and you can expect contact from him. He said to remember the night of the dinner, that you should listen like that.” The Knight hoped that Hux wouldn’t ask any clarifying questions. He had no more information to give him.

Beside the Knight, the general frowned again, unsure of what exactly to make of that request. He stook a deep breath, and when the doors opened a few seconds later he committed the strange invitation to memory.

“Odd,” Hux muttered, but made no more comment. He stepped out of the lift and headed towards the in-tram. “Will you require anything else of me?”

Zayrâl Ren shook his head once, keeping pace with the general as he walked. “Just my room, general.” He shifted to put the sword over his shoulder again, startling a group of stormtroopers who passed them walking the other direction.

Honestly, that was fine with Hux. The less time he had to spend in the company of the enigmatic Knight the better.

“We have prepared one of the commander’s quarters for you.” Hux walked with the man to the in-tram, and was annoyed that the people around gave him an even wider berth than normal. He supposed that it was just the bearing and blade the Knight held so casually over his shoulder, but it still irked him.

“Good.” There wasn’t much to say; he wasn’t one for conversation at the best of times, and then it tended to be with his fellow Knights. What did the general have to offer him besides transport and a bed to sleep in? “When is the estimated arrival?”

“We will reach the Astogan system within the next two days; we’re preparing for the hyperjump now,” he explained as the tram moved away from the station. “Your snap shuttle should get you to Ingerad in a few hours. I’ll have a compliment of troopers follow you.”

“I won’t need many. Make sure you send your best,” Zayrâl Ren said in his quiet low voice. It rumbled through the vocoder on his helmet.

“Of course,” Hux muttered, and then said nothing the remainder of the short journey to the officer’s floor. He led Zayrâl to the commander’s quarters and opened the foyer, then led the Knight directly back to the last room. He opened that as well and then passed the man the cylinder he had used.

“If you have need of me, I am available.”

“I doubt I will,” the Knight said, not dismissively just as a fact. He accepted the cylinder. “Please make sure I have the roster of troopers assigned this mission ready for my review.”

Hux nodded, then took a step back and left the area, giving the Knight his space. Although if he was being honest, he was more than pleased to rid himself of the blasted man’s presence.

Zayrâl kept to his rooms for most of the trip. He was uninterested in the workings of the ship or the people on board. The military aspect of the First Order was a vital piece of its expansion, but he knew himself to be above and outside it, as all the Knights did. Whenever he did chance to see the general, there was a spark of curiosity about the strange messages Kylo Ren had had him deliver. Hux had taken them without a flicker of confusion, so he imagined they must have been some sort of code the Supreme Leader had given them. As he didn’t question the Supreme Leader, he rarely questioned Kylo Ren. The man had stepped into his place seamlessly after that rocky first month on the planet with them. Zayrâl Ren had decided it was the lightsaber that had made the real difference. But then, a warrior was at his best with his true weapon in his hands. Ben Solo had been a powerful Force user with a lot of potential and more than his fair share of anger issues. Kylo Ren was a warrior.

He stood in the back of the briefing room when the general and Captain Phasma (he’d been on a mission with her once and respected her more than he respected General Hux) gave the details of Ingerad uprising.

Inside the meetings room, Phasma was explaining some of the nuances of the culture, and indicated on the map in the center various points of dissent. The entire thing was fairly straightforward, the Ingredi were human, or near enough that differences were hard to distinguish.

“They believe that they are protecting their livelihoods, when in reality they’re simply refusing to pay taxes,” Phasma began, gesturing to the swathes of rich plainland that were typical of the Astogan system. Ingerad had been farmed and molded in such as way that dugout irrigation and aqueduct systems crisscrossed the entire planet, some of the larger structures visible from space. “There are many who support us, mostly the large-portion landowners and those who benefit direction from their wealth, the riots are occurring in the transient reaper towns.”

There weren’t many cities on the planet, small villages connected all over by canals and dirt rut roads, perfect for speeders and the local fauna that Ingredi rode.

“Our mission on the planet is to help the landowners regain control of the transient workforce, without damage to the food-producing areas,” she stood up straight, pointing to another chart, this time the map flashed and faces and names appeared. “Here are the leaders, Ytillan, Brome, Lyctor, from the breadth Fjollum. Yaddigan, Kunever from breadth Hvita. We also suspect that the landowner, Medwyr Lon is assisting some of the rebels, however we will not take action against her until we have absolute proof in order to avoid upsetting the other breadth men.”

She glanced around, looking at the helmeted troopers and then at Zayrâl Ren. “Do you need anything else?”

“The landing site location.” Zayrâl’s voice rumbled to her from the back of the room; he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He’d left his sword in his room, but as that was never the only weapon on his body, he was far from unarmed.

Phasma gestured and a small dot flashed on screen. “Here; we’re supposed to arrive under cover of night, but with the scarcity of concentrated artificial light on Ingerad we’ll have to make adjustments to travel without attracting attention.”

The Knight looked over the screen again, absorbing all the information as she spoke. He nodded once.

“You should send in your second squadron before me. I will arrive with the first.” His decision brooked no argument. He wasn’t making a request. For a moment, Hux wondered what their leader would think of the tactic, then realized almost with surprise that he meant Kylo Ren rather than Supreme Leader Snoke. He wondered what Kylo Ren would make of this attack, though he knew that he himself was more than capable of carrying out this task.

Phasma nodded, turning to look over her troops. “As you want.”

“Do you need any information from me, captain?” Zayrâl Ren asked, unfolding his arms as a signal that if she didn’t need anything else, he was finished with the meeting.

“We’ll follow your lead.”

Without speaking again, the Knight walked out of the briefing room to head to one of the training halls to wait out the remainder of the trip to Ingerad.

Eleven days passed quickly. For the most part the _Finalizer_ stayed in orbit above Ingerad, although they travelled through the system, re-establishing control throughout the Astrogan planets. The Siege of Ingerad was Zayrâl’s feat, and he continued to march across the planet’s surface, requiring only minimal aid from the Star Destroyer.

Then it came time for Hux’s meeting with Kylo Ren. Somehow.

Hux cleared his schedule for the entire day, although he framed his off shift with stern orders to both Der’wann and Mitaka that he not be disturbed. He changed into loungewear and then sat down on his couch, taking a deep breath. This seemed silly, absurd even. What was Ben planning that required Hux to be alone and sequestered in his rooms?

He shifted and took a drink from the glass of water from the table, closing his eyes as he set the water down again. He knew his pad was next to him, the holoscreen behind him blinking, ready to receive a transmission.

But the message had said to wait and remember the night on Arkanis when Ben had pulled himself along Hux’s memories, hand over hand, his fingers finding knots and beads of recognition. Hux swallowed, shivered when he remembered that Ben hadn’t just watched as Hux recounted the past, but had somehow seen it, heard it, been there next to him. Saying it aloud made the entire experience sound ridiculous, but when it came to Ben Solo, underestimating his powers was a mistake most people only made once.

So Hux remembered those nights, dredging them up slowly. His mind had been open, he had let Ben in, unimpeded, uninterrupted. He wondered what the other man was planning, if he would know when it was happening. He ran his hands through his hair again, taking long, slow deep breaths.

His name was suddenly an after echo in the room.

_Arrik._

Ben had sent it over, stretched their frail connection to the limit. It was more a feeling than a word, the chill in his bedroom was like a breeze had blown through the room from a window left open for fresh air. Ben was light years away, kneeling in his room with his open hands on his thighs, sweat from the morning spent training his Knights in the dense parts of the forest drying on the back of his neck. He whispered the general’s name aloud, then send the sounds vibrating along the currents of the Force.

_Arrik._

On board the _Finalizer_ , Hux frowned. He had felt something, a slight gust of cold air across the side of his neck. His thoughts again flashed to Arkanis, sitting in front of the windows as Ben walked through his memories. He took another deep breath, the creases in between his brows becoming more pronounced

Ben couldn’t be sure that his thoughts were making it to the general, but it didn’t feel as empty as it had the last time he’d made the attempt. Since then, he had worked with Sa’marha; he and the Zabrak Knight communicated almost exclusively mind-to-mind. He encouraged the other Knights to do likewise, to work in teams separated by miles of trees and speak to one another from the silent recesses of their minds.

«Hear me.» It was was real words this time, murmured and screamed at the same time. A little more desperation worked its way through his sending. «Answer me.»

Still, on the _Finalizer_ , whole massive systems of stars away, Arrik heard nothing. He was breathing slow and soft, calm even though he had no particular reason to feel anything. The general was alone in his rooms, silent, eyes closed.

The room Ben knelt and felt the low burning heat of frustration start in his stomach. He exhaled in a sharp rush, tensing the muscles in his torso as though focusing himself to accept a blow. He pushed that anger and need through with the words.

«Arrik!»

The general shifted, turning his head slightly, bowing down. There was something strange in the gesture, as if something had forced him to turn. He swallowed and shook his head, and he had the feeling of being seen. Maybe not watched, but seen. He felt that when he opened his eyes he would be sitting across from Ben, that he would be right there with him, in the room. It wasn’t hard to imagine the slightly lop-sided grin, the motion as Ben pushed his hair (shaggy now, longer, curling past his ears and falling into his eyes,) back in a long motion.

Far away, Ben took a deep breath and thought he smelled smoke curling through the humid air. It was a smell at odds with any of the lush, green breathing of the forest that surrounded the complex on all sides. It cut through the sweetly decaying loam scent, burning in a place of growing. His chin dropped and his fingers curled into the loose fabric of his pants. They were close, they had to be so close.

«Say something. Do something to show me you hear me.»

For the General, the situation was not so apparent. He wasn’t force sensitive and even when they were in the same room, it took a massive display of Ben’s power for Arrik to recognize it. Now, even with Ben calling out to him, with them so closely attuned, Arrik only had a strange feeling along the back of his neck. He took a deep breath, eyelids fluttering.

Ben felt his energy depleting as he was straining outward. No limits, he reminded himself. There were no limits for him. That was the promise of the dark side. No limits. He took a short breath and knelt up straight, muscles along the sides of his spine tensed and hard. Rather than sending the words out as a scream, he whispered as though the sound was a breath across space that would blow the hair just by Hux’s ear.

«Hear me.»

“What are you doing?” Hux spoke the words aloud, slightly annoyed and frustrated, feeling as if there was something he was missing, something that he just didn’t understand. It made him feel powerless, like he was left out of some larger plan.

He swallowed and shook his head, feeling ridiculous. In his berth he felt the chill of the open window, the smell of the Arkanis-grown lavenderia plants flowering from the hanging pots down the walls. It all seemed so present, despite the logic of Hux’s mind fighting against the images.

Ben knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer. It wasn’t worth several unconscious hours. He would try again. Next time he’d focus better, he’d find the exact place they could meet between them.

«Two weeks.» He’d send him a holo as well; he could send a real message, though they wouldn’t be able to have a direct call, as the equipment was still destroyed though they were all slowly working on repairs. He’d never told anyone it had been him, but who else could have done it. What other weapon, what other strength? Looking at it daily when he went in, late at night, to try to repair it piece by piece using all the knowledge he’d gotten working on ships much of his life, he felt like an idiot. Not even an idiot, that was much too simple a word. He was embarrassed and impressed and scared all at the same time. Who lashed out like that? He didn’t. He had his own anger problems, sure. But that level of anger? Maybe the worst part was that he knew he’d do it again. «Soon. I’ll be able to do it soon. Listen for me.»

On board the Star Destroyer, Hux felt the stillness settle in around him. This was the end. Whatever Ben had been trying to achieve had ended a few seconds ago, let go like a taut line. He took another deep breath and blinked, opening his eyes again.

Ben kept himself in self-imposed darkness a little longer. The distance between them felt broader now, a gulf filled with emptiness rather than stars. When he opened his eyes, he tried to release his annoyance with himself, with Hux, with his training, with his place, with himself. He had to work harder, he knew that. He needed to be more dedicated, less afraid. There had to be no limits.

He pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his lightsaber from the cot before he walked back into to the training ground.

While Kylo Ren trained on the mysterious planet somewhere in the outer regions, Captain Phasma and the Knight Zayrâl Ren finally brought the incendiaries of Ingerad to order. Hux’s advice was solicited for the various political intricacies of the Ingredi, but he was barely involved in the infantry tactics employed by the two uniquely fringe officers of the Order. Frustrating, to say the least.

And the end of the two weeks allotted every rebellious breadth on the planet had signed allegiance treaties and created new systems to enact the tariffs agreed upon. After Zayrâl Ren and Hux had given their personal reports to Snoke, the knight left without much more ceremony. He took with him a few crates full of tech and another transmitter, but other than that, Hux didn’t keep track of the kind of machinery that the knight requested. He wondered idly if there was something wrong with the communicators receptors on whatever forsaken rock Ben had ended up on.

Before the Knight left, Hux did stop him and asked for a transmission code to reach Ben. It was been a vanity request, and not one that was not received well. Zayrâl just stared at him (or Hux assumed so, it was impossible to tell when the Knight was wearing that mask,) and Hux eventually told him to forget it, turning away, dismissing the man back to his place in Snoke’s lap.

As the paramount for the western parts of the unknown region, Hux continued through the star systems, stopping to check in on trooper facilities, the Faultless and Colonel Elmisand. He was keeping track of his fleet, of his Order. These were the structures and the armada he was in charge of, he had his hands in. The few admirals of the First Order were spread thin, one even on Hosnian Prime, engaged as a liaison to the senate.

The _Finalizer_ was headed, slowly, towards Starkiller. Hux was simply making sure that his name would continue to keep all the systems in line, and draw others to the Order.

When the shuttle landed, Kylo Ren went to meet his returned Knight with Sa’marha by his side. The two of them had settled out into a comfortable hierarchy; there were other knights who were physically stronger, but she had honed her Force abilities more than the others, and her tact and analytical mind put her above the rest of the Knights as well. All of their conversations were silent, and she had placed herself as his right hand very naturally.

Kylo Ren knew that she was not lacking ambition.

The co-pilot was the first off the ship, already carrying one of the shipment crates. Obviously, the sentient was eager to finish this run and get off this planet. They were often the fastest drop offs he’d ever seen, and he was a master of them. Smugglers didn’t really hang around, especially after they’d been paid. The First Order kept this ship on retainer, or maybe the Supreme Leader kept them on his own. Ben didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. They weren’t loyal to the Order, but they were loyal to money and afraid of the Knights. It was a combination that kept their secrets as secrets.

He nodded to the tall figure in black that strode down the ramp, sword over his shoulder as usual.

“Zayrâl Ren. Your mission was a success?” Obviously, they’d had no contact. He anticipated that these crates had the tech they needed, along with their usual food and med supplies. Without turning his head, he felt Sa’marha moving to inspect the crates. They’d never been short a single item. The smuggler in Ben was disappointed. Kylo Ren knew that the pilot would never dare.

Zayrâl nodded, more like a bow, deep and halting.

“We put down the rebellion. The Supreme Leader was satisfied.” It seemed the most appropriate measure of success for a Knight.

“Then we welcome you back a victor. After you rest, join us for the evening meal so you can tell us about it.” Ben’s mouth twisted a little wryly and he wished he had a mask to hide his expression. “Did you...bring us what we need to repair the holo unit?”

The Knight gestured, looking back towards the boxes.

“The tech will be in the shipment,” he said as Sa’marha put the boxes on a lev-cart, pushing them into the compound. The Zabrak glanced over at Ben before she disappeared from the bay.

«How much of this do you want in your rooms?» She asked, already out of sight.

«I’ll be able to do most of those repairs tonight. Put the panels in the comm room, the rest by my room.» Ben found it easy to talk to her even as he continued to speak aloud to Zayrâl. They all needed to be able to communicate that way. He knew he’d have to work with Zayrâl, as he’d been gone while the rest of the Knights had been training their minds.

“Excellent.” Ben gestured to the pilot, dismissing the shuttle without actually speaking to the man. “Do you have any messages for me?”

Zayrâl shifted slightly, rolling his shoulders. “The General sends his regards, and Captain Phasma warned you not to get too soft before she has a chance to spar with you on the _Finalizer_. Snoke also commands that you to repair the communications system immediately, as he has more instructions regarding your training.”

Of all the things Zayrâl had to share with him, only Phasma’s brought him any sort of good feelings. Hux had sent regards. He might as well have made a rude gesture into space toward him. And he knew exactly what Snoke had to say to him. It likely had a lot to do with embracing his anger but not when he was near expensive tech. He nodded to the Knight, though, not letting any of that show.

“Thank you. Go rest now. You’ve done well.” He patted the man’s arm as he walked by, then wondered if that was a Ren sort of thing to do. Eh, too late now. He followed after him as the shuttle lifted off behind him, but headed for his room to immediately start assembling pieces he’d be able to use in the comm room.

Two days later, there were a few screens that were still not loading visuals and the the bass level on the audio was a little like a dance hall on Ryloth, but as far as he could tell, they would actually be able to make and receive holo calls. He headed to the room after his late meditation, intending to replace a few buttons that were usable, but would have likely caused sparks after repeated use.

As soon as he turned the system on, it began emitting a soft beeping sound, accompanied a flashing green light. It didn't take longer than two or three minutes for the imposing figure of the Supreme Leader to flicker into view, sitting back on his throne as if he had just walked into the room.

“Kylo Ren.” The sentient’s voice was gravely, almost annoyed. “You ought to be more mindful of what you target when angered.”

The urge to snipe back ‘yes, dad’ was very strong, but he thought it was a sign of his growing power that he kept his mouth shut for that extra minute. He bowed his head slightly, keeping his face as impassive as he was physically able.

“Yes, Supreme Leader. I was glad when Zayrâl Ren returned with the parts needed for us to make the repairs.” How did Snoke even know it was him? Had he read his mind? Had Zayrâl snitched on him. “He also told me you had instructions for me.”

“He has told me more about how you have taken your place--” Snoke said this as if it were Kylo Ren’s right, as of there could be no one else in such a position, “among the Knights. You should continue. Build them up, hone them. Shortly, Sa’marha and Betuo will be given a mission that will take them away for a few months. Give them instruction before they depart.”

Ben nodded slowly, feeling the immediate pang at the thought of Sa’marha leaving. He’d come to depend on her, and part of that was depending on the unquestioning respect that she gave him. There was also unquestioned jealousy; he was the strongest of them, why was he still here on this unnamed planet out in the Unknown Regions, giving instructions while the others left? Yes, he was newer. Yes, he’d only been a Knight for a short time. But he was Kylo Ren, wasn’t he? He was their leader. How would they ever respect him if he wasn’t tried in battle? ( _Don’t think about who the battle’s against,_ he told himself harshly. _They had their time, and they couldn’t fix it, so it was someone else’s turn. Someone stronger.)_

Snoke watched Ben carefully, trying to test him, evaluate how the new leader would establish his role. Even though Snoke was Supreme Leader above all, he appreciated those in command taking charge. Ben seemed unsure; still trying to find his footing. For now, Snoke would allow uncertainty, but not for long. He needed a powerful hand to enforce the new Order.

“Your training will continue,” Snoke said, gesturing, “I see an unsteadiness in you.”

“If you give me the information for their missions, I’ll give instructions. I need more information in general.” Ben pressed his mouth when he heard his frustration working its way into his voice, a single thread in the whole. “How long can I stay here and watch shuttle after shuttle leave and expect to hold my place? I took my place as a leader, not a dispatcher.”

“How fully do you wish to control the Knights of Ren? They are feared and respected, their very presence commands respect and deference, even from officers within the Order.” Snoke shifted slightly, his voice hard, although he didn't seem displeased by the request.

“Where am _I_ feared and respected when no one even knows my name?” This time, his voice didn’t sound sulky. Angry, yes, but his demand had no hesitancy. “I’m ready, Supreme Leader. I grow stronger every day, and my training can continue when I’m no longer here. I don’t need practice jumping through trees and running and sparring. I need your continued guidance with my abilities though use of the dark side. My only unsteadiness comes from there.” There were still nightmares, which he’d thought would go away now that he’d found his destined place. They hadn’t. One night he woke up when his horrible dreams had taken physical form and his powers had cracked the outer wall of his room.

Snoke allowed all of this, taking it in, watching Kylo Ren carefully. He nodded once.

“You wish to take this on? If you want them, you should have your situation established as a permanent leader and not merely a passing threat.”

“So what you’re saying is I should stay the full six months. Just...stuck here.” He set his mouth, looking away from Snoke’s ruined face. “Training them. Basically. That’s what I’m doing. I’ve changed the way they fight. I’ve changed their weapons. I’m even teaching them what they should do with the amount of Force sensitivity they have to maximize its effect.”

“Staying on this planet for two more months will establish your place. This is your place, Kylo, best of the Knights of Ren,” his voice rose with purpose and demand, “I will train you, and you will command your Knights as you see fit. I need your unwavering allegiance.”

Ben took a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair, then made a short, impatient gesture with that hand.

“You have it, I told you. I gave up my name. I wear the one you gave me, even without a helmet like everybody else. They’re my Knights. They don’t question it. I’ll stay, I just…” He shut his mouth on what he was going to say. _Want more._

“Sit, then,” Snoke commanded, shifting forward and spreading his hand, his massive fingers seeming spindly and fragile even at their large scale, “and I will show you new depths.”

This was what he’d wanted-- the key to travel those last miles to speak to Hux. To not just feel him there, but to speak quietly as they’d done when they were alone. He folded himself down, settling himself cross-legged below the huge sentient’s gaze, hands nearly relaxed on his knees.

“I’m ready, Supreme Leader.” Endless depths and power that made him feel whole. That’s what he wanted. It’s what he always wanted.

Time was irrelevant during sessions like this, and Kylo Ren knew he’d lost hours while Snoke showed him ways to bring up old memories, ways to mentally cause yourself pain to fuel a battle, ways to let the dark side twist around your emotions and draw tem forward into power. He didn’t know how many hours had gone by; it had been dark when he’d walked into the room and he knew it would be dark if he sought out a window to look outside now.

He slowly rose to his feet, pain running through his body even though he hadn’t moved an inch during the entire session. It wasn’t the ache of stillness; it was the pain of scraped nerves, of feeling those long, bony fingers scratching through his mind to show him things he hadn’t known himself capable of. Kylo Ren wanted his narrow bed and a deep sleep, but Ben Solo made himself walk away from the door and over to the wall panel to type in the memorized code to the _Finalizer_. As he walked back to the holopad, he considered sitting for the call. But he’d never done that before, and he couldn’t let Hux see him with any sign of weakness. He wanted the general to see the power that was burning in the center of his chest, not the burned out channels that had been spent up to discover it.

The transmission was received, and there was the usual response from Hux, asking Ben to hold. The ping came first misspelled, Held, before the second came quickly correcting the mistake.

When Hux came to life front of Kylo Ren he was still dressed in lounge wear and looking distinctly rumpled, as if he had just left his bed.

“I should still be sleeping,” Hux murmured, an admission that would have never passed his lips if he had another hour in bed and a large cup of caf in hand. He blinked, getting a better look at the Knight and nodded, taking him in carefully, memorizing him, updating the details of him.  
“Kylo Ren, as I live,” the course was casual, joking without the tone of jest, no heat behind it. “How are you?”

Ben found it suddenly impossible not to smile. It was wide, but crooked, and he spread his arms theatrically before he answered.

“Living the dream. Were you sleeping? Or is it dress-casual day on the _Finalizer_? Tell me Phasma’s wearing fluffy wampa slippers.” He didn’t even know how he had the energy to pretend he had energy.

“It's the end of my sleep cycle, but I doubt I'll return to bed. No use in it.” He took a deep breath, stifling a yawn before he slighted to sit up a little more, composing himself better. “You aren't one to talk about clothing, you look like you've been given a Shistavarian’s hand-me-downs to wear,” he said, although his voice was again without steel, “let me see your saber. Zayrâl mentioned that my suggestion held some value.”

“I’m not even sure where these clothes came from,” Ben said, looking down at himself. He should have buttoned his shirt before the call, maybe, tugged his pants up from where they rode lower on his hips as the broad tied belt loosened as the evening had worn on. “There’s stuff in boxes and we find what fits.” He unclipped his lightsaber from his waist and stepped closer, holding it out so Hux could see the hilt before he turned it on.

“Main blade is powered up here...then here are the vents. I think I might elongate the handle more...it’s long enough for a two-handed grip, but I actually think I want to do more work on the cooling vane. The thing gets warm inside with that type of conductor.” He looked over his work critically as Hux looked it over from his distance. The old pieces didn’t flow together in real life as they did in his head, but he figured that once he had the innards working the way he wanted them, he could fix up the outside.

The general leaned forward, frowning only slightly, concentrating on the lightsaber in Ben's hand. It seemed marvelous and antiquated, as if were a Clone Wars relic and not a modern weapon. He nodded once, following Ben's assessment unable to provide any advice this time.

“It is quite a weapon, Kylo.” He sat back, Ben's new name strange on his tongue. “Will you show me something?”

It was an invitation and a challenge, harking back to the night on the _Finalizer_ when Ben had made the room cold, his power teased out. Hux watched the other man expectantly, eyebrows up.

“You want to see it powered up? You want to see how big it is, eh? Eh?” Ben’s flirting tone was different, darker somehow. He kept his eyes fixed on Hux’s, holding up the hilt. “What do you want to see? Tell me.”

Hux shifted a little, almost immune to Ben's teasing. He frowned, leaning closer and then chuckled lowly, sitting back.

“You used my case for that? I suppose it was too much to expect it to be returned, hmm?” Hux smirked and then shook his head, taking a deep breath. “I know little of lightsabers. Even my own sword training was tailored to something ornamental and almost useless.” He gestured, shrugging. “Impress me.”

Ben—Kylo Ren—stepped back to give himself more room. Hux had never seen his lightsaber, he reminded himself. Hux didn’t know how his powers had grown, how truly strong he was now. He had likely never seen a real lightsaber in his life. The Knight activated his weapon, eyes tracking the plasma blade and turning his wrist slightly to steady his grip when the vent gates opened and the two shorter blades emerged. The whole room was limned with red, and Kylo Ren spun the lightsaber in his hand as he raised his eyes to see Hux’s expression.

The general watched Ben's holo carefully, his eyes flicking over the small details of the blades, the stance, the set of his shoulders just so. He had to know Kylo Ren just as he knew Ben Solo, the strange syllabic inversion making him stumble over which name he preferred.

He nodded appreciatively; he could hear the hum of the saber in the quiet stillness of his rooms. Hux would never admit he was fascinated.

“What else?”

Ben raised his eyebrows, walking in a tight circle on the spot and turning his wrist to spin the lightsaber again. Hux saw it, the danger, the threat, and he shifted forwards, unable to look away from Ben.

“What else?” he asked archly. He knew what Hux was asking. _Once you whip it out, is it for more than show?_

The Knight stepped back from the holopad, wanting to give himself enough room. He remembered, as he turned himself slightly to the side and set his right foot back, going through these moves with a stick on the Finalizer in an effort to get himself under control. And then again on Arkanis when he needed to work off all that nervous energy that built up from waiting and waiting. He’d done these moves every morning for the past few months, every training session beginning with what he’d learned from his uncle before he moved on to the things he’d learned for himself. He wasn’t self-conscious as he stepped through the forms, stronger than he’d been on the Finalizer, sharper than he’d been on Arkanis. The lightsaber fought him slightly as it always did, and that helped him focus, fighting for mastery and balance as he turned his body and leaned into its opposition, forced it to spin beside him and above his head. On the final downstrike, he turned it off as he landed in a crouch, raising his eyes to Hux’s before he pushed himself back up to standing. This time, he waited for the general to say something.

Hux watched without moving, focusing entirely on the man in front of him, eyes narrowed only slightly through the holo-screen, searching the strangely blue projection for something else, for something important, and finding more than he could really understand. It was strong, so strong, undefinably so, in a way that impressed and fascinated Hux.

He took a deep breath and nodded, his eyes flicking upwards to Ben’s face. The room he was in was cool, bordering on uncomfortably cold, but he didn’t make a move to warm up, watching Ben intently, not daring to look away for even a second.

“Good,” Hux said, but it was hard to keep the pride out of his voice. He was satisfied by even the small display, knowing Ben was capable of so much more.

Ben smiled then, and it was toothy and happy as he watched the general back. He had his attention now. How would Hux ever be able to look away?

“I’ll show you more next time I see you. Looks like I’m here for the duration. No early release for good behavior here.” He shrugged and re-clipped the lightsaber to his belt, then looked to Hux again.

“I can only imagine extending your stay would encourage improvement,” Hux said, and his voice held no malice or threat. He nodded again. “Have you been learning much?”

Ben took a deep breath, pushing his hair back from his face again. It had gotten long enough to be an annoyance now, but somehow he never considered cutting it.

“I have been...the others here are not as strong with the Force as I’d hoped, but they can do more than they’d thought they could. In turn, that lets me...well, like I’ve been trying to do with you.” He sighed a little. “You know, the long distance calls.”

Hux frowned slightly, shifting.

“The calls? I don’t understand.”

“Remember? A month ago? I had Zayrâl relay a message? You...come on. You didn’t feel anything at all?” Ben had hoped that his mind had gotten something through to Hux; it was more than demotivating to think that it had all failed.

“I...” Hux frowned deeply, remembering that still night when the air had not been still, had relayed a slight disquiet amid the soft rumblings of his ship.

“There might have been something,” Arrik admitted finally, the creases in between his brows lessening. “I didn’t quite know what you were trying to do, but I was waiting.”

“I was trying to talk to you,” Ben explained with an impatient gesture. “Like...just mind to mind. No holopad.” He said it as though this should have been obvious.

Hux shrugged, sitting back. “There was something, but it was...I never heard you.”

“Never?” Ben huffed to himself, turning his head to look at the wall while he went through that session in his memory. Hux should have been able to hear him, at least once, at least one time when he’d called his name. “Whatever, I’m stronger now. I’m pretty sure it’ll work next time.”

Hux gestured slightly before running his hand through his hair. “Would you like to try now?”

“Yes,” Ben replied immediately. If Hux hadn’t asked, he’d have insisted. He didn’t want to rely on the inconsistencies of the holoroom. He didn’t want to have to wait for messages to be relayed by other people. Some things needed to be spoken silently. He wanted the privacy that he and Sa’marha had every single time they spoke.

The general sighed and nodded, shifting again. “Tell me what to do, then.”

“Just...listen.” Ben had no idea how to actually put it into words. The Knights, even the least Force sensitive of them, hadn’t had any problem hearing him, and they had the additional benefit of proximity. “I’m going to be saying your name. Then just...say mine at least. Think it at me. Scream it at me if you have to. But just feel like it’s me, like I’m right there. How would you talk to me?” He stepped to the side, hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. “We can do it right now. I’ll turn this thing off right now and we’ll do it.” He was confident, smiling with something so fierce it was almost anger.

Hux was surprised by the emotion, the intensity of it. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Do you want to try with the holo still connected first?”

“What? Why? Then you have that crutch and you don’t have the drive to do it for real.” This had to work. “I’m going to turn it off, then you listen. Like on Arkanis.” He figured it had to work like that, not really considering the difference between letting Hux’s memory be his guide for flow walking and talking him in the present. He was stronger now, he reminded himself. Much stronger.

Watching Ben’s form for a few seconds longer, Hux finally nodded.

“I’ll listen for you.”

Ben held Hux’s eyes, then winked as he stepped back. “You’re going to be hearing from me in thirty seconds, so I won’t even say good bye, sweet cheeks.” He laughed a little, then walked over to the comm unit and terminated the call.

Hux rolled his eyes, but shifted again, putting his hands on his knees and leaning forward slightly. This seemed like a futile effort, but Ben had been insistent, and if there was any possibility of keeping the man close, he would do it. He had sacrificed plenty for Ben, what was a few more hours’ sleep?

He took a deep breath, concentrating on the image of Ben’s face, his figure, the way he moved across the holoscreen. He opened his mind, broke down his walls slowly, allowing himself to be unbarred, uncluttered, imagining the way that Ben moved, the way that he would match the Knight’s lightsaber with his own steel, as if a fencing foil could stand up to a blade like that. What a wicked weapon, what a marvelous creature that held it.

As soon as he sank down to his knees, Ben wondered if this had been a mistake. Standing and facing Arrik’s flickering holo, he’d remembered how severely blue his eyes were and what it felt like to stand close to him. Now, in the dark empty room, his body remembered all the training he’d put it through that day and his mind felt everything that Snoke had put it through before he’d called Hux. He pressed his mouth and shook his head once to clear it, closing his eyes as he exhaled closely. That didn’t matter. That had only opened him up to this experience, to this success.

He extended his thoughts, aiming them at the general as his only focus. Arrik’s mouth the second he gave in to a kiss.

«Arrik.»

Ben had said that he would be calling his name, and Hux wondered idly which one he would chose. The man had a penchant for sentimentality and he supposed that he’d hear the softer annunciation sometime soon. He took a deep breath and said aloud, “Ben.”

It seemed silly, and he suddenly felt self-conscious and absurd, even if he was the only person in this room and Ben Solo was thousands, if not a million light years away.

“Ben Solo.”

In the dark, Ben heard his name from all over the compound. With his defenses down, his mind could pick up his Knights thinking about him. It was the name he didn’t want to hear. He didn’t want to know what they were thinking about Kylo Ren.

«Arrik,» he tried again, leaning forward to get himself four inches closer to the man he was trying to reach. He could already feel himself straining. He couldn’t be too tired for this. That wasn’t fair. He couldn’t fail again. «Arrik!»

At least now he had some sort of direction rather than a cryptic message. There was no mistake on the timing, this was now. Somewhere across systems, Ben Solo was thinking about him, trying to reach him. Attached.

Hux took another deep breath, feeling as if Ben were there, as if he were something immediate and present. He had his eyes closed and he could almost see it, Ben kneeling in front of him, tired and weary, worn down in a way that Hux couldn’t understand. He shifted forwards, gesturing the man closer, holding his hand out, as if Ben were there, as if his hand would slide along his cheek, into his hair, and this time he banished all stilted thoughts of misplaced affectation.

“Ben Solo, hear me.”

Ben thought he heard his name and turned his head to the right. That’s where it had been, hadn’t it? That whisper, the one that hadn’t said Kylo Ren. He made a noise when he felt something like a breeze push his hair back. It was too solid for a breeze, but there was no physical touch that soft.

“Arrik.” Ben took a deep breath and remembered Arrik’s mouth again, his bottom lip relaxed, welcoming but not inviting. «Arrik.» He felt the foggy darkness of a headache lurking around the edges of his mind but was determined to push through anyway. «I owe you things that I promise to repay when I see you.»

The general felt something then, a small pressure, a thumb over his mouth, something like a kiss, but when was the last time Hux had been kissed? Ben was the only one who had taken the liberty, taken when he hadn’t asked, when Arrik felt some kind of odd fondness for the man. He had allowed Ben to touch him, when nobody else did, when no one else would.

Arrik frowned slightly, feeling as if there was something fuzzy, clouding his mind. He made a noise, leaning forward, his hand dropping.

It was hard to think, hard to clear his mind through the strange fog that didn’t seem to be from his efforts.

“What’s happening?” he asked, swallowing and shaking his head before saying, “I can’t hear you.”

But Ben did, in that last moment, hear Hux. He heard him as though he was whispering from a far corner, with his hand hovering by his cheek. But it hurt too much to maintain the contact and he felt his control slipping. The Knight fell forward onto his hands, hearing nothing but his own breathing, harsh in the concrete room. The connection was lost and Ben stayed there for a few minutes, summoning up the strength to get to his feet. He stared at the empty holo pad.

“Next time,” he muttered through his teeth before staggering out of the room and down to his rooms. He was determined to make it to his bed before collapsing.

On board the Star Destroyer, Hux felt as if he had been put into something like a vacuum, all the air sucked out of his berth for a second, feeling a crushing pressure on his chest before it was all released, some valve let out. He swallowed and blinked, looking around his rooms.

Nothing, no one.

Hux swallowed, running his hand over his face and then his mouth, remembering the feeling there, the small indication that it had been Ben and not his imagination, that there was something else there, that it wasn’t just a whisper into the void. He took a deep breath and stood, the transmission station folding up into the wall as he left the room. It was too late to go back to sleep, and there wasn’t much more he could do without Ben’s guidance. He supposed it would all keep. They had just under two months before Ben was slated to jump through space to get to the _Finalizer_ and Hux wondered if the man would be so different.

The next morning Mar was in front of Kylo Ren’s rooms, and she knocked on the wall that framed the door before calling out to him.

«Kylo, you have been asleep for almost ten hours.» Even her psychic voice sounded annoyed. «There is much to do.»

Though Sa’marha’s was often the first voice he heard in the morning, it wasn’t the one he had thought he’d hear. Ben turned his head toward the door and groaned aloud. She didn’t need to hear it, but he did.

«Ten hours is barely anything. What do I have to do this early? Tell everyone it’s arts and crafts time and they can work on their weapons.» He rolled over onto his back carefully; the cot was narrow and he’d fallen out of it more than once.

Ben didn’t get a projected answer, but Mar’s audible huff of annoyance more than conveyed her feelings about the matter. They were attuned to emotions, and even now the Knights were allowing themselves to sense each other even if they didn’t throw their thoughts in any precise direction.

«I come bearing gifts, Leader of the Knights of Ren,» her tone was almost sarcastic, but still deferential enough that it wouldn’t be taken badly. She was loyal to power and strength, and Ben was unmatched among them.

Her new leader was also a man who appreciated a finely-honed piece of facetious banter. Ben smiled slightly, without even opening his eyes, then finally levered himself upright with his legs over the side of the cot.

«Gods, please. Move slower. I don’t have things to do.» Mar’s voice cut through again.

Ben rubbed both hands over his face, feeling clammy already. Great way to start the day. He stood up and walked over to the doorway, leaning out to look at his second-in-command. Mar’s eyes flicked over him, looking for damage.

«I know. It’s practically a day off for you. What are you bringing me? Breakfast?» Even face to face, he didn’t bother speaking aloud.

Mar made a noise, not making any real expression as she pulled a sack around her body and pulled out a parcel wrapped in a rough weave. She held it out to him, eyebrows up, a little defiant.

“For you.”

Taking the wrapped package, Ben frowned slightly. He hadn’t expected her to actually have anything for him; he’d expected that it was a bit of sarcastic rhetoric she had been employing just to get him out of bed. Sa’marha picked up on the surprise, and she made another, louder noise of annoyance. She was always sincere. Mostly.

He looked down at it; it was a good size, wrapped up in swathes of cloth, it ended up being fairly round. He ran his hand over the rough fabric, finding the edge and hesitating. He looked up to meet her eyes, raising his eyebrows slightly.

«What is this? Is this going to attack me?»

«Just open it,» she snapped, far less formal with Ben than she had been even a month ago. What good did it do when they were constantly in each other’s thoughts? She pushed back a few strands of her hair, twisting the lock around one of her horns. She continued to frown at the parcel in his hands, not meeting his gaze.

Ben watched her downcast eyes, noticing for the hundredth time the smooth line of her eyelid with no eyelashes to hide it, how strange a lack of eyebrows would look on anther who didn’t have intricate patterns already tattooed on their face. He smiled a little, then turned his attention back to the package, pulling the folds loose carefully. She’d wrapped it in something wide and long and he had a second of wondering what prank he’d fallen for—then the fabric abruptly ended and dropped to the stone floor and he was left holding a black helmet.

“Mar…” He worried for a horrified moment that it was Takhar Ren’s, but the top of that one had shattered under the heat of his lightsaber and the explosion of its immediate demise. The top of this helmet was smooth, but matte rather than reflective. The mouthpiece was wide where it swooped down to follow along his jaw. The visor screen was chased around with black vertical lines. He turned it and saw the mechanism to open it; touching the switch activated the tech to shift the mouthpiece out and away from where his face would be. A Knight of Ren in a black mask. Kylo Ren. Ben Solo stood there in just a pair of training pants with his hair a curly messy braid down his back, but he could see himself on the _Finalizer_ and what he saw was Kylo Ren.

«Snoke was going to send away for it, but I stepped in. Your helmet shouldn’t come off a production line.»

She took a step back, her mouth pressed but her expression unreadable otherwise. Despite her own mask, it would be apparent to Ben what she was feeling; the anxiety one feels when handing off a creation, the fear of rejection, the annoyance that she was feeling any of this at all. Hadn’t she made Zayrâl’s helmet, her own, and Gadelon’s as well? The helmets she made were strong, imbued with the force, created with some strand of strange magic inherited from Dathomir, despite the fact that the moon-bound Zabrak had disassociated from the forces of their orbital planet. It was only due to Snoke’s intense training and her own travels to that Dark world that she had awoken in herself some long-latent skills of her sisters.

Ben traced his fingers along some of the carefully crafted lines over the eyes. It was a beautiful piece, though it was strange to think that soon it would be what people associated with his name. They’d associate this with Kylo Ren. The galaxy would forget about Ben Solo, his own face, his mother’s smile and his father’s nose, and the ears that Leia said must have come from somewhere. The helmet was strength; he could feel the power that had been bound into it. He needed to stop internalizing it all and give Sa’marha the praise she deserved for the gift.

“I’m honored to have one of your pieces.” He looked over at her and smiled a little. The gratitude deserved air and voice. “Thank you.”

Mar glanced up at him and nodded once, informal but slightly stilted, and although she tried to hide her emotions she still felt awkward and unsure.

“You’re welcome,” she said quietly, looking up at him again. “If it needs adjustments I can re-form areas to fit you better.”

«I wouldn’t trust anyone else.» While she had her chin tipped up, he leaned in and kissed her lightly, quickly, before pulling back and looking down at the helmet. “Guess I should try it on, huh?”

Her eyes widened and if she had eyebrows they would be at her horns. She nodded, fighting down the strange emotions from the gesture. Confusion predominately, with a healthy dose of embarrassment, mostly on Ben’s behalf.

«It’s made to accommodate some neck padding. I’d advise you to put on a shirt first.»

Ben smiled and rolled his eyes, turning to walk back into his room. The silent invitation was there for her to take or ignore as he set the new helmet on his cot and walked over to grab the cleanest of his three shirt options. He picked up one and held it up contemplatively, then pulled it over his head and knotted the ties up the front before picking up his wide belt to put over it.

«I don’t suppose it has some kind of natural cooling agent in there too, does it?» He knew those helmets had to be hot to wear when training. He picked his up again and turned it upside down, looking into it from the other side. In the dimness of his room, the shadowed inside could have been depthless.

«There’s a coolant system. It helps.» She had overheard his fears and, closing her eyes, she imagined the soft bands that wrapped around the inside of the helmet, circulating cold hydro, operated by a miniscule energy compressor near the back of the helmet.

Ben saw them too and turned to smile at her again. «You don’t miss anything. Ever.» He lifted the helmet and put it over his head slowly, making a moment more important than it probably was. It wasn’t like he couldn’t ever take it off, after all. His fingers fumbled for the sealing switch on the side. He felt like everything echoed, even though there were no sounds. His breathing became a dull thing. As the auditory system engaged, he heard things more clearly. He turned his head; what he didn’t have was a mirror. He had no idea what this looked like.

«So, what do you think?» he asked, turning back to Sa’marha. His hand automatically felt for the lightsaber that wasn’t on his belt yet.

She smiled a little, looking skeptical. She didn’t want to seem too proud of herself, but it was nice to see the other man wearing her work. Looking over it, she couldn’t see any obvious imperfections, so she nodded once. «It’ll do.»

«Has anyone else seen it?» He paused, smiling broader than he usually allowed himself because he knew it couldn’t be seen. «Do I look mysterious and alluring?»

«The parts came after Zayrâl’s left for the _Finalizer_. I showed part of it to Glade. He suggested the flare in the back.»

He put his hands up to the sides of the helmet, trying to learn its dimensions inside and out. How strange to be caged like this, to be hidden.

«So not a complete mystery then.» He put his hands over the visor to put himself in total darkness, then lowered them. «Do you find it difficult to fight in yours?»

She shrugged, leaning against the wall, the curtain pushed back to expose Ben as he continued to examine his new helmet. Even the gesture, though physical, had a mental flavor to it, a shallow ripple that punctuated her thoughts even before she projected them.

«You get used to it quickly.»

«I should get out there...how early is it actually? Is everyone else out there?»

Mar smirked, shaking her head. «Most of us have been up for hours, Kylo.»

Of course they had. Well, that was one way to make an entrance anyway. «Alright, alright. Let me get my boots.» Knowing she was still watching, he walked over to get ready, then snatched up his lightsaber.

She didn’t say anything, but her assent radiated from her. Shifting, she pulled another item out of her satchel, holding it out to him.

«I almost forgot. You want to be Leader, you get to deal with everyone.» She made a physical noise, turning the pad slightly. «I’ve been handling this since you took Takhar out on early leave.»

«Handling?» His confusion ruffled the edges of the word as he reached over to take the datapad. «What’s this? I don’t get it.»

She gestured, reaching over to turn it on. «The Knights of Ren. Snoke has missions sent over, sometimes just reports of dissent, or things that might need our kind of attention,» her eyes flicked up to Ben’s face and then down to the pad. «Sometimes he gives specifics, but other times...You decide who goes out, when the shipments come, what missions we take on in our spare time, the kind of training we receive.»

Standing up, Sa’marha took a step back, stretching, her arms up, hands laced. «We’re yours now. Lord Ren.»

Ben watched her, shaking his head in silent protest. This couldn’t be what Snoke had meant by him becoming the leader. Organizing shipments, sending them on missions...This is what he’d done when he worked on his father’s ship. This was exactly what he’d escaped from when he’d decided to take the Millennium Falcon for his own vessel and decided to do his own missions. He didn’t want this at all.

«Takhar Ren did this?» he asked in disbelief.

«He did. Quite well, actually.» Mar smirked, brows up, «he also delegated some things, so don’t get your basics in a twist over the mundane details. It’s not so hard.»

«I’m not saying it’s hard.» Even he could hear the petulance in his tone, but he couldn’t help it as tabbed through the information on the datapad. It was true; they were running low on root tubers. How did they eat so many? «I’m just saying he didn’t seem like the type.»

« _Lord_ Ren.» She smirked as they walked, tone teasing but not unkind.

He turned to look at her, feeling her smirk and making sure she could feel his. It was weird to think no one could see him. Someone could stand right in front of him and not know if he was smiling or homicidal. Or asleep.

«What’s with this Lord Ren bantha shit? Isn’t everyone basically Lord Ren around here?» He looked down at the datapad again.

«It’s the title given to the premier of the Knights,» she explained, walking beside him.

They walked out into the harsh midday light and for the first time it hit him that, yes, he’d really slept a long time. However, the brightness was filtered by the light sensitive glass covering his eyes. He wondered what all this helmet actually did. Would it heighten his vision at night?

«I think we should change that and call it was it really is. Lord Ren is the guy, or girl, who has to cart the datapad around all day long.» He snorted as they walked over to where the others were already working in close, tight formations.

«Lord of the binary, Sovereign of the shipments, Prince of paperwork.»

Ben couldn’t stop himself from laughing aloud, or from giving her a little Force shove to the side. Whatever, he could deal with playing datapad jockey when called upon. It shouldn’t take that much time, right?

He raised his hand, pointing out Knights to change up the groups. They did, wordlessly, almost immediately responding to his order.

He was simultaneously surprised and not surprised that they knew who he was. Who else could he be; there were only so many of them. But at the same time, he felt so different himself, as though he was wearing someone else’s face, that he expected to even walk around near people he knew and be unrecognized. He watched them training, and when he saw an error (there were so many fewer now, they’d honed themselves so sharp), he showed them directly, mind to mind.

It was easier and harder for Mar to train now. She had always done well with instruction, but it was harder now to impress Ben, to fight him as an equal. At the end of practice she felt exhausted, inside and out.

It was all she could do to drag herself back into the compound, find the calm room with the small stream running through it and lie down next to the water. At least, she thought, closing her eyes as she rested, she didn’t have to deal with that stupid pad anymore.

While six months had felt like an eternity at the outset, the last six weeks of his training went by too quickly. Sa’marha was gone for half the time, and as he watched his Knights training or sparred with them, he missed her quiet low voice in his head. He’d grown used to her hovering beside him while they meditated. She had stepped easily into the position of his second, and there were days when their connection was so open that even when they were doing their own separate tasks they were acutely aware of the other’s actions.

When she left, he missed the way she murmured Zabrak phrases into his mind to let him guess what they meant. Their openess turned to intimacy easily.

Soon, when she spoke to him in her mother tongue he would create lewd interpretations. Soon after, no matter what strange sexual practice he described and made her feel, he was always wrong and she’d show him all the best ways to be incorrect. He hadn’t known that Force users could do that quite so well, be so close and so intimate. There was nothing written about this in the collections in the Jedi Temple.

He missed how enjoyable it was to sit silent and still beside her, all the while mentally sharing some of the dirtiest things he’d ever experienced. He also missed the fierce noises she made while sparring; everything about her was fierce, and she brought it out in the other Knights. He wondered what of her dark side powers drew anything from the Dathomiri Nightsisters. They were human, but there had to be females born from the coupling of the witches and their Zabrak lovers.

He assigned himself to several of the short missions, not sure if he’d receive a scolding holo call when he returned. He never did; Snoke seemed pleased with his progress, and the planets he was sent to with the other Knights were places he’d never even heard of. It was easier to feel like the strong hand of the First Order when cutting down sentients he couldn’t imagine knowing. After his first mission he spent the next day throwing up. He blamed the water. He knew it was the light.

Saying goodbye to the other Knights wasn’t difficult; while he’d grown used to the planet, he still didn’t love it. He knew he’d see the others soon. He’d been assigned to the _Finalizer_ as transport to view the First Order’s new weapons system. That was all the information he’d been given. As the Supreme Leader had explained it to him, it wasn’t because he wasn’t trustworthy; he’d proven himself many times over. But it simply wasn’t safe to let information travel too often and too carelessly. General Hux would provide him with all the information he required while they were en route.

The shuttle was too slow for his patience. He scared at least three hells out of the pilot when he strode up to the cockpit and insisted on showing him a better route to their coordinates. He forgot that he was a different figure now, with his mask and heavy black cowl over the tighter, lighter clothing he was wearing. He returned to his berth only when he was assured they had shaved six hours off the journey.

On board the _Finalizer_ , Hux was actually...eager to have Ben return to him. They hadn’t spoken directly in nearly three months, not since Ben had tried to just think his way across the galaxy. It was on the schedule, and every report indicated that the shuttle carrying the Knight, _Lord Ren_ , he reminded himself with no small satisfaction, was slated to arrive in eight hours.

He needed that time to prepare for the arrival. They had barely spoken, and every time they had Ben had reminded Arrik of their shortly intimate moment. It would be impossible to avoid, and honestly Arrik wasn’t sure what kind of methods he could employ while he was on the ship. There was part of him that wondered how much control he would be able to keep when Ben started used his tricks.

The best way to make sure that he retained all his control would be to let some of it go right now. He sent a message to a trooper they called Tracks and Hux let him into his berth, waiving the code override, already tearing off his armor in a rather dramatic fashion. It was a pretty grievous lapse, but Hux didn’t care, just wanted this before he had to deal with Ben Solo on his ship again.

He pushed Tracks away when the trooper tried to kiss him, batted rough hands off his pristine uniform, and steered the fit trooper into his own berth. He smirked as the trooper eagerly took off the underlayers, and Hux unfastened his jacket, not bothering with the rest of the uniform, barely bothering to consider Tracks underneath him, bending him over the bed, one of his knees on the mattress.

Six hours ahead of schedule, Kylo Ren walked confidently down the hallways of the _Finalizer_. He knew the way to the commander’s wing. The stormtroopers he passed got out of his way quickly. He doubted they knew his name, but they knew he was one of the Knights. A reputation that was partly his own and partly the Knights the troopers had seen before. He took the respect that was his due, glancing at them as he walked by. He knew his own helmet was hiding his expression. Which was good, because he couldn’t stop smiling a bit.

He hadn’t seen Arrik in two months, hadn’t been in front of him in nearly half a year. He’d come back a man impossible to ignore. He clenched his hand by his side when he stood in front of the door. He didn’t have the cylinders to access the berth. That didn’t matter anymore; raising his hand, he swept the doors open easily then walked into the berth and toward Hux’s rooms. He already knew exactly what he’d say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's he going to find??? Next week, the first chapter of part five...Balance of Power.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Remember, talk to uuussssss.ask us questions here and we'll have a real discussion. <3 <3 ](http://tigernoir.tumblr.com/)


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